Hardened Sparks
by Sidekicks-anonymous
Summary: An old friend shows up out of the blue to join Bumblebee's team. Bee's not complaining-he can use all the help he can get-but something doesn't feel right about the mech's explanation. That, combined with Sideswipe's reaction, raises Bumblebee's suspicions. What's the real reason Knockout came-and what does Sideswipe have to do with it? Rated for possible future fight scenes
1. New Arrival

When Russell saw the car on the security feed, the first word that came to mind was "vintage." Not his dad's definition of the term—which seemed to include any piece of junk older than himself—but the more exclusive meaning that normal people used. Old, but classy. This car was definitely classy: the gleaming crimson paint didn't show a single scratch, and the sleek lines of the frame spoke of speed and elegance. It was, all in all, not the kind of car Russell expected to see driving into a junkyard.

"Dad! There's a customer outside!" Russell bounded down from his place in front of the security monitors. Most of the team was deeper in the junk yard doing something with the stasis pods; only Bumblebee was in the inner clearing where customers usually pulled in.

"Bumblebee," Russell called as he ran to get his dad. "Somebody's coming in! Disguise time!"

"Got it." The black-and-yellow bot closed the file he'd been looking at and quickly transformed into his vehicle mode. He radioed the other bots as Denny buzzed the waiting car in. "Autobots, there are humans in the scrapyard. Stay out of sight."

"Aww, man," Sideswipe grumbled, but Bee cut the comm off before the youngling could complain. The roar of a powerful engine grew louder as the red car drove into the inner yard. Russell followed his father out to meet it. The car screeched to a halt in front of the humans, throwing up a dust cloud. Seeing it up close, Russell realized the car wasn't just plain red—silver detailing decorated the sides, accenting its gold hubcaps. The windows were tinted so he couldn't see inside.

"Morning, sir!" Denny greeted, squinting to try and make out the driver through the dark windows. "Can I help you?"

No response came; the driver didn't get out of the car. Russell fidgeted as a moment passed in silence. This was weird—and for some reason it was giving him a sense of déjà vu. Then—

"No, human, I don't think _you_ can help me—" A voice drawled. Russell jumped—the voice had come from the car!

"—but that Camaro might be able to," the car continued, its side mirrors twitching. "If it's who I think it is."

Russell heard an engine revving behind him. Denny pushed him back as Bumblebee slowly pulled forward to face the car. Tension filled the air as the two vehicles sized each other up.

"Knockout?" Bumblebee finally whispered, shocked. "Is that you?"

"In person." There was a flurry of shifting parts and suddenly in place of a vintage sports car stood a scarlet mech about as tall as Bumblebee. A silver Autobot symbol gleamed on his chassis, but Russell noticed as that his eyes were red—not the blue that most of the other Autobots sported.

Bumblebee transformed hastily into his robot form. His face was an expression of pure disbelief as he struggled for words.

"Knockout! How did you get here?! And when? Why are you here in the first place?!"

"I bought a ship; just now; and I would think that would be obvious, Mr. Correctional Officer. I'm not completely irresponsible." The red mech folded his arms, his expression becoming uncharacteristically serious. "Is the youngling you dragged here still functional?"

Bumblebee thought the remark odd, but his response was pre-empted by a loud _crash_ from the back of the junkyard. All heads turned toward the noise.

"Do I want to know what that was?" Denny asked.

"Probably not," Bumblebee sighed. He hurried in the direction of the crash—Knockout could wait until he'd straightened out whatever mess his team had created.

Knockout… he hadn't seen the ex-Decepticon in vorns. After Optimus had restored the Allspark to Cybertron, Knockout had become a full contributor to the Autobot team—but his relationship with them had always been tenuous at best. The scars from the war were still fresh, and it was hard to develop a truly trusting connection with the medic they'd always known as an enemy. As more refugees returned to Cybertron and the planet's rebuilding began in earnest, the team had been drawn apart by their responsibilities. Bumblebee hadn't seen his old friends in stellar cycles. As for Knockout…well, he'd lost track of the medic long before that. It was strange that they'd meet again here, on Earth of all places. What was he doing here, anyway?

Bumblebee shook himself from his musings as he saw the other Autobots in the yard just ahead, next to the stasis pods. One of the pods was lying on the ground, half-buried in junk that had spilled from the shelf it'd crashed into. Sideswipe and Strongarm were yelling in each other's faces while Fix-it and Grimlock stood on the sidelines trying unsuccessfully to break up the argument.

 _Everything normal, then,_ Bumblebee thought bitterly. Fix-it noticed him approaching first and rushed forward.

"E-everything's under control! Just a small accident with an unbalanced stasis pod, no harm done—"

"Yeah, no thanks to Butterfingers here!" Sideswipe cut in, pointing at Strongarm.

"Butterfingers?! It was your fault, you little—"

"If you call me a punk one more time!—"

"ENOUGH!" Bumblebee bellowed, shutting both younglings up. He pushed them apart, scowling at the whole assembly of bots.

"Accidents happen; pointing fingers and throwing blame isn't going to solve anything. This—" he indicated the upended shelf "Could have been cleaned up in no time if you hadn't wasted time squabbling. Which, by the way, I could hear from across the junkyard—we're just lucky there weren't any visitors in the junkyard or our cover would've been blown over a petty mistake."

"Wait, there weren't visitors in the yard?" Fix-it asked, metal brow furrowing in confusion. "I thought you said there were humans coming."

Bumblebee sighed again. "Turned out it wasn't humans—it's another Autobot."

"Here?" Strongarm raised her eyebrows. "Who is it? Did the council send reinforcements?"

In answer, a clanking sound erupted from behind Bumblebee. He turned to see Knockout stumbling out of from among the shelves, cursing as he tripped over the spilled junk.

"WHAT IS _HE_ DOING HERE?!" The outburst startled everyone. Bee glanced questioningly at Sideswipe, surprised by the venom in his voice. Sideswipe wasn't the most mature mech, but it wasn't like him to be hostile. Yet he was glaring at Knockout like the medic had just kicked his pet turbopuppy. Knockout seemed unfazed.

"Lovely team you have, Bumblebee," the medic quipped. "So polite. Wherever did you find them?"

Bumblebee resisted the urge to sigh yet again. Better get the introductions over with. "Everyone, this is Knockout. He's an… old friend."

"You _know_ him?" Sideswipe demanded, incredulous.

"Oh sure, Bumblebee and I go way back," Knockout responded with a smirk. "Back before the war ended, right, Bee?"

"Knockout worked with Optimus' team after Cybertron was restored," Bumblebee explained shortly. "And he was on Earth before that. What he's doing here now, though, I have no idea." Bee gave the medic a meaningful look. "Would you care to explain?"

The other Autobots turned their attention to Knockout. His expression remained impassive as he sized up the group before him. His gaze swept from Grimlock to Fix-it to Sideswipe and Strongarm. For a second Bumblebee saw something pass across Knockout's face—Sadness? Hurt? The flicker of emotion was gone in a second, leaving Bumblebee to wonder if he'd only imagined it. Expression once again unreadable, Knockout turned to Bumblebee.

"You said it yourself; we're old friends. And when a friend gets himself stranded on a backwater mudball of a planet with a shipload of escaped convicts for company—" Knockout shrugged. "It's the least I can do for the Autobots."

Bumblebee blinked. Was the medic implying— "You're here to help us?"

"Duh." Knockout turned his attention to the scrapyard as he spoke. "With a hundred Decepticons running loose, I'm sure you could use a qualified medic. I parked my ship in the woods a couple kliks north; I'll need help bringing in my equipment. And you'll need to clear a space somewhere for it," He grimaced as he nudged a rust-splotched washing machine with his foot. "If you can find somewhere that's moderately sanitary."

Bumblebee listened silently. Skepticism was replacing his surprise. Knockout had been a tolerable teammate but he was also—and Bumblebee meant this in the best way possible—the most selfish mech Bee knew. Altruism and team loyalty had never been present in his personality before now.

"What's the catch?" Bumblebee couldn't help asking, cocking an eyebrow.

"Catch? I just want to be a good Autobot." Knockout turned back to meet his optics. "Protect humans, bring Decepticon criminals to justice, all that jazz. What other motivation could I possibly have?"

* * *

 **A/N: As promised, a new story up within a week! I'm so proud of myself. The title may sound familiar to some of you-this story ties in to my other fanfic "Softened Sparks," which could be considered a prequel. However, I intend them both to be stand-alones, so you shouldn't need to read on to understand the other. Hope you enjoy! (And please review; I love constructive criticism).**


	2. No Secrets

Time, it seemed, had mellowed Knockout's personality. He wasn't the trollish, I-do-what-I-want mech that Bumblebee remembered. True, he'd kept up a steady stream of sarcasm while they unloaded cargo from his ship. He'd already managed to tick off Strongarm by repeatedly calling her "sweetspark," a habit he showed no signs of stopping. So his characteristic snark was still present. And, judging from the buffer Bumblebee had seen among the supplies, the medic was as vain about his paint job as ever. But the underlying rebelliousness that he'd so often exhibited seemed to have extinguished. During his time on Team Prime, Knockout had chafed at any kind of authority; he'd pushed back against every order he was given, relishing the opportunity to irritate others. So far, the Knockout who'd appeared in the junkyard had shown none of that behavior. He'd fulfilled every request Bumblebee had made promptly and without questioning. The few grumbled objections he'd made seemed more for show than anything. Knockout was still caustic and self-absorbed, but he was being far more cooperative than he'd ever been before.

It made Bumblebee suspicious.

Once the sun had set and the rest of the team had dispersed to their nightly routines, Bumblebee headed for the _Alcamore_. Knockout had decided to set up in a sheltered area underneath the ship's wing and was now busy trying to arrange the team's meager resources into a decent med-bay,.

"This is the only sterilizing solution you have?!" Bumblebee heard the medic exclaim as he approached. "This is hardly strong enough to wash your servos with, much less clean out a wound! Who stocked your supplies?"

"I don't know; the warden is responsible for approving our invention—invalid— _inventory_!" Fix-it finally managed to sputter out the right word. Just then, he saw Bumblebee. The mini-con gave a hasty salute. "Lieutenant! Can we help you?"

Bumblebee saluted back. "At ease, Fix-it. How goes the organization?"

"Pitifully," Knockout drawled. "You're lucky I brought my equipment with me; I had no idea the Autobots supplied their members so poorly."

"Most of our equipment didn't survive the crash," Fix-it said defensively. He dropped the sulky tone, though, as he looked to Bumblebee. "But we should be much better prepared to handle medical emergencies now, sir."

"You're welcome," Knockout said smugly. Bumblebee ignored the remark.

"Good job, both of you. Uh—actually, Fix-it, I was hoping I could chat with Knockout for a second."

"Certainly." Fix-it chirped, smiling congenially. Bumblebee waited for a moment, but the smaller bot remained where he was.

"…Fix-it," Bumblebee finally elaborated, "Would you please leave for a bit so I can talk to Knockout _alone_?"

Fix-it blinked, another couple seconds passing before the message finally sunk in. "Oh! Oh, right; sorry. I can go calibrate the scanning systems for a few kliks." The mini-con rolled away. Knockout watched him, shaking his head.

"As soon as I get set up here, I'm giving that bot a thorough exam," the medic declared as soon as Fix-it was out of sight. "I think the crash may have damaged his processor."

Bumblebee responded with an ambiguous grunt. He leaned against the ship's hull, unsure of how to begin.

"Look, Knockout—I'm glad you're here. Really. We're not operating under the best conditions, and having an experienced soldier and medic onboard will help a lot. But if we're going to be a team, we have to be on the level with each other. No secrets."

Knockout paused. He narrowed his optics at Bumblebee. "What's that supposed to mean? You think I'm hiding something?"

"You've never been one to go out of your way for someone else. And now you leave the comfort of Cybertron to help out a mech you barely know on a 'backwater mudball' you have no ties to? Excuse me if I don't believe that story."

Knockout snorted, but Bumblebee held up a hand to silence him. "But _why_ you're here isn't really important—unless you want to lead the escapees in a hostile takeover of Earth, which I doubt. I just don't like hidden agendas. If you have an ulterior motive for coming here, I'd rather get it out in the open so I know what to expect."

Bumblebee looked the medic in the optics soberly. "So… why don't you tell me why you're _really_ here?"

Knockout held Bumblebee's gaze, treating the optic contact like a challenge. A long silence stretched as they stared each other down.

At last, Knockout glanced away. "I don't blame you for being suspicious. A mech with my background, showing up at a mass breakout of Decepticon criminals—you'd have to be an idiot not to question that." The medic drummed his fingers absentmindedly as he spoke, still looking away. "Team Prime did me a big favor when the war ended. You could've let me rust away in a cell, but you didn't. You gave me a chance to redeem myself. I owe the Autobots for that."

Knockout suddenly stopped his finger-drumming and looked up. His earnest expression caught Bumblebee off-guard.

"I know it's hard to believe, but I can be selfless on occasion." Knockout gestured to the wood outside the junkyard. "Optimus was always fond of this primitive planet. The least I can do is make sure a bunch of rogue Decepticons don't tear it apart—or tear _you_ apart."

Bumblebee pondered those words. "So you really just want to help us? That's all?"

"My only goal here is to keep you and your team strong and functional. I swear on the Allspark." Knockout lifted a hand as if taking an oath. Part of Bumblebee was still skeptical, but the greater part of him wanted to believe the medic. After all, wasn't that what Optimus had hoped for—that mechs would change if given a second chance? Knockout had shown vorns ago that he was willing to cooperate with Autobot ideals. Bumblebee could trust him to do so—for now, anyway.

"All right; I'll take you at your word." Bumblebee acquiesced. Then he grinned. "Welcome to the team."

"Pleasure to be here, _Herr Kommandant_." Knockout said, giving a casual salute. With that settled, Bumblebee left to get some well-earned recharge. Knockout went back to unpacking supplies. He grimaced as he arranged his contributions next to the _Alcamore_ 's meager resources.

"Even the Decepticons supplied most of their troops better than this," he muttered to himself. "They're just lucky I came prepared—this team is an accident waiting to happen. Especially that Dinobot…"

Knockout picked up the next storage container and paused. This one was his personal belongings, not medical supplies. He set it down off to the side, a safe distance from the other boxes, and cracked it open to check its contents. Everything had survived the trip, it seemed—the cans of paint and wax were still sealed, his energon staff wasn't damaged, and—nestled amid stacks of buffing cloths—a datapad sat unmoved. Knockout turned the pad over in his hands carefully—no scratches or cracks, thankfully. He moved to put it back but stopped, his hands halting seemingly of their own accord.

Knockout hesitated, glancing around to make sure no one else was around. Then he flicked the datapad on. The screen lit up, revealing an image of the medic. Not just him, though—a much smaller bot, a sparkling, sat on Knockout's shoulders. The sparkling had a red paint job like the medic's and a helm with ridges that resembled a spiky hairdo. He had a wide grin on his face as he clung to Knockout's helm, the older bot smiling at the sparkling's antics. A similar smile came to the real Knockout's face as he gazed at the picture.

"Knockout, are you done talking to Bumblebee now?"

In the blink of an eye, Knockout had switched off the datapad and stuffed it back in the container. He turned to Fix-it, who'd just rolled back into the area. "It looks that way, doesn't it? Come on, let's finish this; I need some recharge."

The mini-con nodded in agreement and went back to work. Knockout joined him, but not before tucking the datapad beneath the buffing cloths, out of sight. The last thing he wanted was someone stumbling on it by accident.

There were some things Bumblebee didn't need to know.

* * *

Russell flipped through the TV channels, looking for something interesting to watch before bed. He paused on a cop show.

"How about this one?" he asked the giant robot next to him. Sideswipe merely grunted in response, barely glancing at the screen. Russell frowned. He went back to flipping, but his mind was more on his robot friend than what was on television. Sideswipe had been acting strange since that morning. He was moody and distracted, only speaking when asked a direct question and then being as short as possible. Russell had never seen him like this, and he suspected it had something to do with the new Autobot.

"So," Russell said, trying to sound casual. "Knockout's, like, a robot doctor?"

Sideswipe grunted in a way that Russell interpreted as affirmative.

"That should be helpful. I mean, Fix-it's okay treating small injuries, but it'll be nice to have a real doctor around in case there's an emergency."

"I guess." Sideswipe muttered, still staring off into space. Russell eyed him worriedly. He resumed his channel-surfing as he pondered what else to say.

"You know who Knockout reminds me of?" Russell didn't wait for a response before answering his own question. "Steeljaw."

That piqued Sideswipe's interest. He gave Russell a curious look as the human continued.

"I mean, Knockout looks a lot different, but the shape of his face, the way he talks, even his personality… I dunno. What do you think?"

Sideswipe chuckled softly. "Oh, there's definitely a resemblance."

"You remember when we first ran into Steeljaw?"

"Who could forget? The glitch tried to scrap us. And Strongarm never even said thanks for pulling her tailpipe out of trouble."

"Yeah." Russell paused before transitioning to the question he really wanted to ask. "Is that why you don't like Knockout? Because he reminds you of Steeljaw?"

Sideswipe tensed visibly at the question. Russell noted the reaction carefully.

"What…" the robot asked slowly. "What makes you think I don't like him?"

"Well, you seemed kind of upset when he showed up. And you've been sulky ever since."

"I'm not sulky!" The mech replied indignantly.

Russell just stared at him, eyebrow cocked, as if to say _really_? Suddenly, a thought occurred to him.

"Wait, when we first saw Steeljaw, you said he reminded of someone—someone you knew." Russell saw Sideswipe tense again at the comment. "Who was it?"

Sideswipe fidgeted uncomfortably, not making eye contact. "I don't want to talk about it," he said finally turning away with an air of finality. Russell was silent for a minute, but he wasn't done yet.

"Sideswipe," he asked softly, "Did you know Knockout? Before now?"

The robot made no response. But Sideswipe's emotions were always pretty easy to read. Russell could see a storm of emotions fighting on his face, reflecting some inner struggle.

"… I've never seen him before in my life." Sideswipe stood up suddenly and transformed into his vehicle mode, revving his engine. "Hey, Russell, why don't we go for a drive? I need to stretch my wheels."

Russell saw through the obvious attempt at changing the subject, but he'd pushed Sideswipe far enough for one night. He turned off the television and climbed into Sideswipe's passenger seat. The robot belted him in snugly and took off, going even faster than he usually did. Like he was running from something.

 _Or,_ Russell thought, _from someone._


	3. Investigate

**I'm sorry this took so long to get up... I know I promised one of you to have it done in a week, and that was 2 weeks ago. *facepalm*My goal from here on out is to have an update up every two weeks, so... set your calendars.**  
 **A big thanks to GoldenEagle13 (and several other friends) for beta-reading this chapter for me. Hope you all enjoy it! As always, reviews and critiques are welcome.**

* * *

Despite his decision to trust Knockout, Bumblebee kept a close watch on the medic over the next few days. It was one thing to accept his help; it was another to let him run around wantonly.

However, Bee's concerns proved unmerited for the most part. Knockout settled into the team without incident. Strongarm still hated him—he hadn't stopped calling her "sweetspark"—but he'd been civil with the rest of the team, including the humans. Bee had worried about that most of all; Knockout had never been fond of humans, even after joining the Autobots. He wasn't exactly "pals-y" with Denny or Russell now, but at least he was treating them like team members instead of pets—or pests.

After three days with no fights, death threats, or narrowly-avoided squishings, Bumblebee's worries about the medic began to ease. Besides, he had more important things to attend to.

"You're sure it's a Decepticon signal?" Bee asked, peering at the monitor over Fix-it's shoulder.

"It just registered a little while ago," Fix-it confirmed, pointing to the blip on the screen indicating a Cybertronian signal. "Definitely one of the escaped prisoners. I'm guessing his stasis pod kept him offline until recently, which is why we didn't detect the signal before now."

"I'll send Strongarm and Sideswipe to check it out; hopefully it's no one too dangerous." Bumblebee winced as the words left his mouth. _Shouldn't say things like that; I probably just jinxed it._ Shaking off the superstitious thought, he went to find the rookie cadet and the reckless youngling. Strongarm, as he'd guessed, was on her usual perch atop the old fast food sign.

"A Decepticon?" The stoic femme tried unsuccessfully to hide her delight. "I'll investigate at once, sir!"

"Not alone, you won't." Bumblebee said firmly, curbing her enthusiasm. "Do you know where Sideswipe is?"

"Out driving, I think." Strongarm shook her head in disapproval. "Without permission, no doubt. He's been doing that more and more lately."

Bumblebee suppressed a sigh. "I'll talk to him. Meanwhile, you get ready—I don't want you walking into a potentially dangerous situation unprepared."

Yes, sir!" Strongarm gave an enthusiastic salute and ran off to collect her weapons. Bumblebee watched his overzealous cadet go, shaking his head.

 _At least she gets the job done,_ he thought. She wasn't wrong about Sideswipe, either; while Strongarm tended to be overly critical of the mech, she had a point about his recent behavior. He was spending a lot of time outside the junkyard. He'd find excuses to leave—"It's a long walk to the football field, Russell, let me drive you there;" or "You need to go into the city, Denny? I'll give you a ride!" He hadn't even complained about going on patrol for the past few days. It was uncharacteristic, to say the least.

 _Maybe he's just trying to be more helpful,_ Bee thought. The more cynical part of his processor scoffed at his optimism, but Bee tried to ignore it. He trusted his team, Sideswipe included—and until Sideswipe gave him a reason to do otherwise, he'd try to think the best of the mech, After all, he'd been in Sideswipe's position before: the young rookie, trying to prove himself to the world.

 _Here's a chance to prove yourself, Sideswipe_. Bee thought as he opened his com-link to contact the mech in question. _Don't mess it up_.

* * *

Sideswipe grumbled as he sped down the uneven dirt road. "This bites! I'm getting mud in places I didn't even know I had!"

"Okay, first of all, I didn't need to know that," Strongarm snapped. "And second of all, this is a very important mission! We've been entrusted to track down a potential fugitive; we can't let a little mud get in our way."

She couldn't hear Sideswipe's muttered reply, but she guessed it was uncomplimentary and/or insubordinate, like everything else that came out of the punk's mouth. _Never mind,_ she told herself. _Focus on the mission. Don't let him distract you._

Up ahead, the road curved as it rose up a steep incline. These were the roots of a mountain; the signal was coming from somewhere among them, off the road. Strongarm pulled up short of the curve and transformed, eyeing the slope appraisingly. Outcrops of stone jutted out of the rising ground, becoming more frequent the higher one went. It was a place better suited to an animal-based alt-mode than their wheeled ones.

"Be on your guard," Strongarm warned. "If the perp has a beast form, he'll have the advantage in this terrain."

"Whatever; let's get on with it." Sideswipe said, brushing off the advice like dirt off his chassis. Strongarm let out a huff of indignation that was also ignored as they began climbing. It quickly became apparent who was better suited for this activity—much to Strongarm's chagrin. Sideswipe practically danced up the uneven slope while the cadet struggled to keep her footing.

"Having problems, cadet?" Sideswipe called to his partner cheekily, watching her clamber over the rocks. "These aren't the smooth city streets you were trained on! Maybe you should've spent more time off-roading, like me and the other 'punks'."

Sideswipe heard her mutter something in response. "Whatever," he shrugged, and continued climbing. "I've been called worse." The road was nearly out of sight now; instead of the dense forest he'd grown accustomed to, this place was all rocks and scrub brush. Not many places for a Decepticon to hide...

Sideswipe vaulted over a particularly tall boulder and landed on an important clue.

"Uh—Strongarm! You might wanna see this."

It was a minute before the femme caught up to him, panting to cool her systems. Her annoyed look vanished as she saw what he'd found.

"The stasis pod!" The metal cylinder lay on its side, covered by native fauna that had sought to reclaim their invaded landscape. But what worried Strongarm was the fact that it was in two pieces. The jagged halves lay next to each other like a broken egg. Judging from the lack of plant growth inside the pod, it had only been destroyed recently—by its occupant, Strongarm guessed.

"This thing is totally trashed," Sideswipe muttered, running his hand over the torn metal. "I don't wanna meet the bot that can rip a stasis pod in half."

"Then let's be extra careful." Strongarm replied, pulling her Decepticon Hunter from its holster. For once, Sideswipe didn't argue. Weapons at the ready, they continued on. Signs of their quarry appeared as they climbed higher: trampled plants, humongous footprints, deep scratches in the stone. Several of the larger rock outcrops had craters in them, as if something big had slammed against them. Strongarm eyed the craters with trepidation. From the signs, it was clear that this 'Con was powerful. Perhaps it would be wisest to call in backup now...

"Maybe we should've brought Grimlock with us," Sideswipe spoke up suddenly.

"If the Lieutenant thought we couldn't handle the situation, he would've sent Grimlock with us from the start," Strongarm replied, despite having had the exact same thought only a moment ago. Now that Sideswipe had suggested it, the idea no longer seemed so appealing. "Besides, this is a recon mission. Grimlock is too clumsy; he'd compromise our position."

"You're not the picture of stealth right now, either." Sideswipe replied, frowning. "The way you're stumbling around, I could hear you coming a mile away."

"I am not stumbling—"

Strongarm's defense was cut short by a crash that made both robots jump. They looked around for the source; it seemed to have come from further ahead.

"Think we found our 'Con," Sideswipe deadpanned. He rushed forward in the direction of the noise.

"Wait! Protocol states that we have to stick together!" Strongarm called after the red mech. He gave no signs of hearing her. Biting back a complaint, Strongarm hurried after him. She was _so_ writing him up for this…

A little ways on, the ground began to level out. The boulders grew scarcer, a fact for which Strongarm breathed relief. As the rocks disappeared, trees took their place—massive trees whose roots sprawled across the ground. Strongarm took care to watch her step as raced after Sideswipe's now-distant form.

Finally Sideswipe slowed and stopped. He vanished behind one of the larger trees. Strongarm redoubled her pace; she didn't trust the rookie where she couldn't see him. When she caught up to him, he was crouching close to the tree trunk. She gave him a dirty look for leaving her behind, which he returned. He then jerked his thumb at something in the trees to their right. Strongarm followed the motion. She instantly followed Sideswipe's example and dropped to the ground. Several of the giant trees lay haphazardly on the forest floor, leaving a trail of carnage that extended into the distance. And in the trees beyond was the cause of the destruction: an orange-and-brown shape whose primal snarls could be heard even from here. Strongarm had guessed from the state of the stasis pod that the Decepticon was big, but—the shape was massive. It was hard to judge accurately from this distance, but the fugitive looked at least as big as Underbite; maybe bigger. And judging from the sounds of trees being massacred, he wasn't happy.

Sideswipe dropped to his belly and crawled toward one of the fallen trees. Strongarm moved to stop him, but hesitated. He was right, for once; they needed a closer look at the perp. "Big and orange" wasn't a good enough description for a positive ID, and knowing who they were dealing with could mean the difference between a successful capture and potential offlining. She followed Sideswipe, tensing as the violent sounds grew louder. At last, they reached one of the mangled trees a few hundred yards from the 'Con. Strongarm hoped it would provide sufficient cover to hide them. Crouching behind it, she and Sideswipe peered over the top to get their first real glimpse of their quarry.

The Decepticon's size was even more apparent now. He stood head-and-shoulders taller than Grimlock, and just as broadly built. He was clearly a beast-former; his stabilizers were shaped like the paws of an enormous feline, with steely claws gleaming at the tips. A mane of wires sprouted from his helm and shoulders like a ruff around his neck. But what caught Strongarm's attention were the wings. Not Seeker wings, but leathery, animal-like ones that stretched to the ground. They reminded Strongarm of a fictional creature that Russell has shown them—a "dragon," he'd called it. Two shiny clamps pinned the appendages together, preventing the mech from either transforming or flying. As the Autobots watched, he threw himself back-first against one of the trees.

"Get off! Get _off_!" The Decepticon growled. As he hit the tree, the clamp gouged into the wood, but remained locked. So that's what he was doing. That must have been what caused the damage to the rocks they'd seen; the 'Con was throwing himself against things in an attempt to break the clamps off.

Strongarm ducked back behind their tree. "Keep an eye on him," she instructed Sideswipe quietly. "Alert me if he approaches." She then pressed two digits to her com-link.

A hiss of static sounded through the radio before giving way to Bumblebee's voice."-Cadet? Have you found anything?"

"We've located the fugitive, sir." Strongarm whispered. "He's in the mountains, well away from any human habitations, so we shouldn't risk discovery. He's big, and a flier; that should narrow down the suspects."

"Got it. Searching for an ID now," the lieutenant replied. "What exactly do you mean by 'big?' How big?"

Strongarm hesitated. She wanted to bring this perp in herself, but if she told the lieutenant how formidable he was, he'd want to send backup. Bumblebee would never let her take on such an obviously dangerous opponent herself. "I think Sideswipe and I can handle him, sir. We've tackled worse."

"How big, cadet?" The lieutentant's tone was suddenly suspicious. Strongarm winced; he knew her too well.

"He's… a little bigger than Grimlock, sir."

"Wait, bigger than Grimlock?" The suspicion was replaced by shock. " _And_ he's a flier?!"

"Unless those wings are just for show."

There was silence on the line for an instant while the lieutenant digested this information. "All right, I'm sending back-up, cadet. Fall back and observe until we get there. Do not engage, understand?"

"Sir—"

"That's an order. For both of you." Bumblebee's tone brooked no argument. Strongarm sighed inwardly.

"Yes, sir," she mumbled.

"I can't hear you, cadet."

"I said, 'yes—'"

Suddenly, Sideswipe seized her wrist. He jerked it away from her helm, breaking off the communication. Strongarm whirled around, glaring daggers at him. What was the punk doing?!

"Wha—" Sideswipe's hand clamped down on her mouth before she could get the question out. Normally, that would've earned the mech a smack upside the helm—but any ire Strongarm felt puffed away as Sideswipe hissed three words:

"He hears us."

Strongarm's optics widened. She shook his hand off and peered over the fallen tree. The Decepticon had stopped his rampaging; he now stood stock still in the clearing he'd created, head cocked to the side as if listening for something.

And… he was sniffing.

 _Idiot!_ Strongarm cursed herself, dropping behind the barrier again. _He's a beast-former, of course he has enhanced senses! He can probably hear, maybe even smell us right now!_

Strongarm's processor raced through the implications of this development. They couldn't fall back as ordered—any movement could give away their position. Their best chance was to remain still and silent and hope backup arrived before the 'Con discovered them.

The 'Con was still standing frozen, scanning his surrounding for his quarry. Strongarm glanced at Sideswipe, who met her optics. He put a hand on his Decepticon Hunter and tipped his head in the 'Con's direction. The meaning was clear: _Do we attack_?

Strongarm shook her head vehemently. _Wait for backup_ , she mouthed.

Sideswipe frowned. _How long?_ he mouthed back. To that, Strongarm could only shrug. Sideswipe's frown deepened. He clenched his weapon more tightly.

The 'Con suddenly let out a snort. Strongarm heard the sound of splintering wood again. She relaxed despite herself. As long as he was smashing trees, the noise would cover their retreat. She motioned for Sideswipe to follow her—

A large branch soared over their heads and crashed into the ground in front of them. Alarmed, Strongarm peeked around the tree and was greeted by the sight of another tree limb soaring toward them.

"Move!" Sideswipe and Strongarm dove in opposite directions as the branch glanced off their tree shield. Strongarm rolled to her feet and found herself staring into the optics of the fugitive. The amber orbs seared with fury and hate.

Strongarm activated her Decepticon Hunter. Out of the corner of her optic, she saw Sideswipe do the same.

"Can we attack now?" the mech muttered wryly. The question answered itself as the 'Con let out a roar and charged.


	4. Catch and Release

**A/N: Hee-eey! So... I know I'm later than I said I'd be, but a week late isn't too bad, right? *nervous chuckle* Anyway, please enjoy the latest chapter of Hardened Sparks. Please review, and, as always, I welcome feedback and constructive criticism.**

* * *

The 'Con was faster than his size suggested. Strongarm barely got out of the way before he barreled into her and Sideswipe.

"Protoblaster!" She barked at the weapon in her hand. The Decepticon Hunter hummed as it formed the specified weapon. She whirled to take aim, only to be swatted aside by a giant fist. She slammed against a nearby tree, the bark cracking under her weight.

"Autobots!" The Decepticon spat as he swatted Sideswipe aside in a similar manner. "Always meddling in the affairs of your superiors! You will pay for your insolence!"

"Yeah? Put it on our tab!" Sideswipe retorted, drawing his katana. The fugitive parried his attacks, but Sideswipe managed to avoid his blows as well. The punk was fast, Strongarm had to give him that. She scrambled for her weapon, which fortunately hadn't fallen too far when she was thrown. She seized it and let loose a barrage of energy bolts. They hit the 'Con in an explosion of blue sparks, one after the other.

The 'Con snarled at the assault. As Sideswipe lunged again, he caught the mech's arm and threw him through the air like a giant metal discus. The noise of his crash-landing made Strongarm wince. The Decepticon then turned to her, teeth bared to reveal saber-like fangs.

" _Insect!"_ he roared, leaping at her. She was ready this time, however—a timely tuck-and-roll left the mech soaring over her. She swung around and peppered his back with several more shots before he managed to turn around.

Then, suddenly, something dark swished across the ground at the Con's feet. In a flash, Strongarm's legs were swept out from under her. She hit the grunt with a grunt.

 _What the-?!_ Her train of thought derailed as a gargantuan paw planted itself on her chest plates. The sun was blocked out as the 'Con bent over her. Against the light, his form was reduced to a black silhouette with two burning yellow lights set in his dark face. It was then that Strongarm noticed another shape behind the 'Con: a segmented tail with a bulbous stinger on the end, poised behind him like a snake about to strike. How had she not seen that before?! Idiot!

The Decepticon growled softly as he ground her further into the ground.

"Normally, I would not hesitate to rip out your spark," he said in a low, rumbling voice whose softness belied its words. "But I have a use for you."

He twisted his pinned wings so that the metal clamp was visible. "Remove this—atrocity—from my back, and I may deign to spare you.

"I don't' make deals with criminals." Strongarm snapped. The 'Con responded by pushing down harder. Her chassis felt like it was about to crack.

"I am no criminal," the Decepticon whispered. He bent closer, amber optics boring into hers. "One cannot break the law when one is above it. I am superior to you machine-formers; your rules have no sway over me."

His tail curled over his shoulder. A bead of liquid welled at the tip, where it quivered ominously above Strongarm's face.

"You, unfortunately, will not live to see my reign."

Panic rising in her spark, Strongarm fought to get out from under his pede. She might as well be pushing against a mountain. The tail pulled back, tensing before it struck—

A large rock bounced off the Decepticon's helm. It only made him hesitate for a second, but that was all the time Sideswipe needed. In a red blur, he pounced on the 'Con's tail and jabbed his katana between the armored segments.

The 'Con let out a bellow that nearly blew Strongarm's audio circuits. He jerked back, and Strongarm seized the opportunity to roll out from under the criminal's pede. The 'Con whirled in circles trying to catch the mech clinging to his appendage. The sight would've been comical if not for the urgency of the situation.

"Sideswipe, fall back! He's too strong!" Strongarm ordered, running for her fallen weapon.

"No! I can take him!" The mech yelled from his perch.

"Listen, you idiot—"

"ENOUGH!" The 'Con, tired of the game, swung his tail against the ground. The blow raised a dust cloud and knocked the wind out of Sideswipe. The 'Con wrenched his tail out of the stunned mech's grip and, to Strongarm's horror, plunged it down toward his chestplates.

Sideswipe's quick reflexes saved his life—if the stinger had entered his spark chamber, there's no knowing how much damage it might have caused. As it was, it pierced his arm, which he'd thrown up to block the attack. Judging from the agonized cry he let out a moment later, that was bad enough. The 'Con disengaged the stinger with a flick of his tail and gave the youngling a savage kick in the side. Then he turned to Strongarm.

Strongarm aimed her protoblaster. A pessimistic voice in her head insisted that it was fruitless. _He's too strong! You can't beat him!_

 _Shut up!_ She ordered the voice, but her hands still quivered. The 'Con tensed to spring. A primal roar rang through the trees.

Which caused both Strongarm and the fugitive to pause, because the roar hadn't come from the 'Con.

Strongarm whirled around to face the source of the roar. She then wisely got out of the way as Grimlock came barreling through the trees. The Dinobot tackled the massive Decepticon before he could even blink. They rolled on the ground in a flurry of teeth and claws, their combined snarls making the ground shake.

Bumblebee followed Grimlock into the clearing, with Knockout close behind him. His optics swept over the scene, taking in the situation.

"Knockout, Strongarm, get Sideswipe out of here; Grimlock and I will take care of the fugitive!" Bumblebee barked before plunging into the fray. Knockout had already hurried to Sideswipe without waiting for the order. The red mech was curled on his side, cradling his arm. Strongarm followed the medic, kneeling next to him at the youngling's side.

"Sideswipe! Talk to me!"

"I'm…sick…of getting stung…" Sideswipe hissed through clenched teeth.

"Hang on, Sides, you'll be all right." Knockout assured him softly as he scanned the mech. Satisfied that he was safe to move, the medic hoisted Sideswipe over his shoulders in a battlefield carry. He glanced at Strongarm as he made to leave. "Sweetspark, if you're functional, get moving. It's not safe here."

Strongarm bit back a retort about the nickname and followed the medic back toward the road. She could chew him out about the nickname later. Right now, he was correct; this area was most definitely _not_ safe.

The already-abused forest now looked like a war zone, thanks to the two giant beast-formers. Bumblebee ducked as Grimlock's tail soared over his head. He stayed low to the ground as he watched for a clear shot at the battling 'Con. Whenever he saw an opening through the flailing limbs, he fired. The shots distracted the fugitive enough for Grimlock to get in a few good punches, but, to Bee's frustration, that was all they were doing. Not that he was surprised. He'd known this would be a tough fight as soon as Fix-it had ID-ed their target. This 'Con was a type of Cybertronian infamous for their strength and sheer ferocity. A creature he hadn't encountered since the defeat of Unicron—and the loss of Optimus…

As the memories flooded his mind, Bee hesitated. For a split second, the images of the past distracted him from the present. As is the way of the universe, the Decepticon chose that moment to throw Grimlock off. In the moment it took Bumblebee to refocus, ten tons of metal dinosaur came flying towards him.

Bee made a desperate leap for safety, but Grimlock's tail managed to clip him anyway. His gun flew out his hands, striking against the ground. As it hit, it fired; the wild shot flared across the clearing, ricocheted off a moss-covered rock—and hit the 'Con square between the shoulders.

The 'Con froze, and for a second Bumblebee thought the blast had actually stunned him. But his hope turned the horror as the Decepticon shook his wings and something large and silver fell to the ground.

The shot had broken the clamp.

The bestial 'Con spread his wings wide, his expression becoming one of pure ecstasy. He fell to his knees, transforming as he went. His form changed to one of a bizarre-looking creature with the head and body of a lion. The segmented tail melded smoothly into his spine struts, and the wings stretched twice the length of his body. Pinned beneath Grimlock's tail, Bee watched the 'Con leap into the sky. The sound of leathery wings flapping blended with his triumphant roar as he flew beyond their reach:

" _FREEDOM!_ "

"Get back here, you giant turkey! We ain't done yet!" Grimlock scrambled to get up, but Bumblebee stopped him with a gesture of his hand.

"It's too late, Grim. We'll have to track him with the Alchemor's scanners." Bumblebee shoved Grimlock's tail off of him and got to his feet. They couldn't catch the fugitive while he was in the air. His prisoner badge was still active; they could keep track of his location and be ready for him when he landed. Right now, they had other priorities.

Strongarm and Sideswipe were just outside the forest. Sideswipe was propped up against a boulder as Knockout examined his arm. Strongarm sat beside him, absentmindedly rubbing one of several new dents on her frame. She looked exhausted, but she jumped to her feet as soon as she saw Bumblebee. "Sir! The fugitive—"

"Escaped. But that's not important right now; are you two all right?"

"Peachy," Sideswipe muttered, wincing as Knockout touched the hole where the stinger had entered.

"He'll live, once I get the venom cleaned out of his circuits," Knockout clarified, not looking up from his examination. "I can turn off his pain receptors for now, but he won't be driving back to the ship in this condition. Sweetspark here—" Knockout nodded to Strongarm, "—has a few dents that need looking at, but her self-repair systems should have her ship-shape in a few days."

Strongarm glared daggers at the medic before turning to Bumblebee, her expression melting into one of pleading apology.

"I'm so sorry, sir! This is my fault; I should have guessed that he had enhanced senses, or we should have observed from further away, or—"

"Strongarm, listen," Bee interrupted, grabbing her by the shoulders. "This was _not your fault_. The prisoner was out of your league. If anyone's to blame, I am—I sent you to check out the signal in the first place."

"Now that we've established that, can we get back to base? I have damaged bots to take care of." Knockout stood up and brushed off his hands. "Grimlock, can you carry Sideswipe down the mountain? He'll need to ride on your trailer on the way back."

Grimlock obligingly scooped Sideswipe into his arms, despite the youngling's loud protests that he could walk. He started down the mountain with Strongarm close behind, her ire somewhat mollified by Sideswipe's humiliation. Bee started to follow his team, but a hand grabbed his shoulder.

"Bumblebee—"

The sudden hostility in Knockout's voice took Bumblebee off guard. That tone was generally reserved for people who scratched the medic's finish. _That better not be what he'd angry about,_ Bumblebee thought with an internal sigh. He turned to face the medic. "Look, Knockout, if your paint got messed up—"

He was cut off by Knockout's fist connecting with his jaw. Bee stumbled back. He gaped at the medic in shock. The previously calm mech now looked murderous as he stared Bumblebee down.

"A Predacon." Knockout growled, fist still raised. "You sent inexperienced younglings after a slagging _Predacon_! They could have been offlined! If we'd been a minute later, it would've been too late. _What_ were you thinking?!"

Bee was dumbstruck. He wasn't sure which had thrown him more, the punch or the fact that Knockout had been the one to deliver it. He'd expect this kind of reaction from Arcee, or Ratchet—but from Knockout? What had gotten into the medic?

"I didn't know the signal belonged to a Predacon," Bumblebee defended himself. "If I had, I'd never have sent them here alone."

"You shouldn't have sent them here at all! Just because you spent your childhood fighting a war doesn't mean they have to!"

Bumblebee's mouth hardened into a thin line. "I don't want them fighting a war, Knockout." He said in a deadly calm voice. "I didn't want them to be here in the first place; I told them both to stay on Cybertron when I came here, but, surprise, they didn't listen! I didn't want them getting involved in a fight, but they're here now whether I like it or not, so I might as well make use of them.

"Besides, they might be inexperienced, but they aren't helpless. Strongarm is one of Kaon's most promising police cadets, and Sideswipe, for all his faults, is a capable warrior when he wants to be."

"Maybe so," Knockout muttered, "but that wasn't enough for him today. What if the venom had been fatal instead of just painful? Sides could be _dead_ right now."

"But he's not; a fact for which we should be grateful." Bumblebee fixed the medic with his best "authority" look. "You said you wanted to keep my team functional. If you're so concerned about their health, why don't you go treat their injuries now and yell at me later?"

Knockout scowled, but to Bumblebee's surprise, he started down the mountain without further argument. Bumblebee stayed where he was, still bewildered by Knockout's response. He rubbed his sore jaw. Never, in all his time with the Autobots, had he seen the medic act that concerned about someone other than himself. Why the sudden worry over the younglings?

 _Wait a second,_ Bumblebee thought as something Knockout had said sank in. _Since wh_ en does _he call Sideswipe 'Sides?'_


	5. Damaged

**Hey, look, only three days late this time! Aren't you all so proud of me? :D Anyway, enjoy. As always, thanks to my faithful beta-reader GoldenEagle for editing.**

* * *

Bumblebee and his team stood gathered around the _Alchemo_ r's control console. The only ones missing were Knockout and Sideswipe, who were both in the medical area. Strongarm had insisted on postponing her medical treatment, opting instead to join the debriefing that Bumblebee had ordered.

"As I told Bumblebee, the only prisoner matching your description is a Predacon by the name of Iron Wing," Fix-it began, pulling up the file on the prisoner roster. An image of a leonine beast-former with wings and a scorpion tail appeared on the computer screen.

"That's the perp, all right," Strongarm confirmed.

Denny squinted at the screen. "He looks like a manticore—from Greek mythology."

"It's probably the other way around," Bumblebee corrected. "A lot of earth's mythical beasts were actually derived from Predacons who came to the planet millions of years ago."

"Wait, there were Cybertronians on ancient Earth?!" Russell leaned over the _Alchemor_ 's railing, elated at this information.

"Um, yes. It's a long story; I'll explain later."

"More importantly, how did Autobots get custody of a Predacon in the first place?" Strongarm frowned. "They're an independent society—they handle their own criminals."

"True. But Iron Wing is no longer legally acknowledged as a Predacon," Fix-it explained, tapping away at the keyboard. "According to his file, he was exiled after challenging the current Predacon leader for dominance."

Bee let out a low whistle. "He challenged _Predaking_? This guy's either really tough or really stupid."

"Most likely a combination of both. Anyway, after being rejected by the Predacons, he attacked an Autobot city and attempted to take over. The Elite Guard were able to bring him down, but they suffered heavy casualties in the process. He was sentenced to life in prison as a result."

Bumblebee rubbed his chin, mulling over the information. From the file, and Strongarm's description of his behavior, it was clear that this 'Con was power-hungry. Predacons in general tended to think of themselves as a superior race, but this one seemed to be taking the idea further—to the point that he was trying to subjugate those he saw as lesser beings.

"I don't think we'll need to worry about Iron Wing teaming up with Steeljaw," Bee thought aloud. "He'd see that kind of alliance as beneath him. Even by himself, though, he won't be easy to take down, and it'll be hard to take care of him without the humans noticing."

"Yeah, giant robotic manticores tend to attract attention," Denny quipped.

"Especially when they have no sense of subtlety," Bumblebee agreed. "I mean, attacking an Autobot city all by himself? I don't think 'cautious' is in this guy's vocabulary."

"If he tried to conquer a city on Cybertron, he might do the same here," Strongarm suggested. Bee nodded in agreement.

"Good point, cadet. Fix-it, you still have a lock on his energy signature?"

"Yes, sir!" the mini-con affirmed, puffing up with pride. "He's currently still airborne, a few miles to the north. But we'll know the second he touches down."

"Good." Bumblebee faced his troops. "All right, here's the plan of action: Fix-it will keep an eye on the convict's movements and alert us if he gets too close to a populated area. Crown City is the nearest human settlement and, I think, the most likely target. Those of us with vehicle modes will patrol there so we can respond quickly if he does show up. Grimlock—"

The Dinobot punched his fists together in anticipation of his assignment.

"—You'll be on call here. If Iron Wing goes somewhere besides Crown City, it'll be up to you to keep him busy until we can get there."

"What about Sideswipe?" Strongarm pointed out. "I'm not sure he should be in the field after being injured like that."

"I'll talk to Knockout—if he okays Sideswipe for field duty, then he'll come with us. Otherwise, he'll stay here and help Fix-it."

"Will Knockout be staying as well?" Fix-it asked. That made Bumblebee pause; he'd almost forgotten about the extra mech now on their team. Bee considered Fix-it's question. Knockout was, first and foremost, a medic—but he'd seen his share of battle as well. Bee had been on the business end of his energon staff enough times to know Knockout could handle himself in a fight. Of course, that had been during the war, decades ago; he had no idea if the medic's combat skills had faded.

 _Although he can still throw a punch_ , Bee thought ruefully, feeling his jaw twinge at the memory.

"Knockout will come with us," Bumblebee decided aloud. Even if Knockout was rusty, his combat experience would be useful. And, Bee admitted to himself, he wanted to keep an eye on the medic. Knockout was acting squirrely, and he wanted to know why. No matter what the medic said, Bee's instincts insisted he was concealing something—and if Knockout wouldn't tell him the truth, Bumblebee would ferret it out himself.

* * *

Sideswipe fidgeted on the berth, clutching his damaged arm close to his chest. He avoided optic contact as Knockout brought his kit over. The medic set the pack off to the side and watched the youngling expectantly.

"Sideswipe," he said finally, as if talking to an uncooperative sparkling. "You need to show me your arm before I can fix it."

The youngling scowled but he thrust his arm out. Knockout wordlessly began removing the plating, exposing the venom-soaked circuits inside. The silence sat heavily over the makeshift med-bay as he cleaned the damaged limb and Sideswipe pointedly avoided his gaze.

"…Well, this is unusual." Knockout broke the silence after several minutes. "No complaining, no snide remarks—did your vocalizer get damaged, too?

"My vocalizer's fine, _old mech_." Sideswipe put some extra force behind the last words. Knockout, however, showed no reaction to the insult. The silence returned; the soft clicks and clanks of Knockout repairing his arm grated on Sideswipe's audio receptors like nails on a chalkboard.

Finally he couldn't take it anymore. "What are you doing here, Knockout?"

"I'm fixing an insolent youngling; I'd think that was obvious."

"Not what I meant." Sideswipe glared at the older bot. "I mean, what are you doing on earth? I specifically remember you saying you weren't going to come running if I got myself into slag."

"So I did. I guess you can't trust a 'Con to keep his word." Knockout didn't even look up as he gave the terse reply. "At least here, you can pretend you don't know me; I'd hate for my past to _embarrass_ you."

Surprise flickered across Sideswipe's face at the statement. "You mean… Bee doesn't know? You didn't tell him you're my-?"

"No. Although I'm surprised he didn't know; police mechs tend to find out that sort of thing when they arrest you."

"It was only a traffic violation," Sideswipe muttered defensively. "Can't turn a corner on Cybertron without breaking some law…"

"So you decided to just waltz off to an alien planet and try your luck there?!" Knockout's fist suddenly slammed down on the berth, making Sideswipe jump. He looked at the medic in alarm.

"Hey, calm down—!"

"No, I will not 'calm down'!" Knockout jabbed a finger in Sideswipe's face, optics blazing. "You literally disappeared off the face of the planet! Without a trace, just disappeared! I had _no_ way of knowing what happened! The only record of where you'd gone was the report of an unidentified youngling going through a hijacked space bridge; if Jazz hadn't shown up at my door and confirmed that it was _you_ , I'd still be looking for you in the scrap heaps!"

Sideswipe bit his lip, trying to ignore the guilt welling up in his tanks. "I was fine. You didn't have to look for me; I can look after myself!"

"I'll believe that when I see it!" Knockout snapped. "Whatever you might think, you have an enormous talent for getting into trouble! If it's not with the police, it's problems at school, or with the other younglings—and now you get yourself involved in a prison escape, for Pit's sake!"

"Hey, it's not like I arranged it! I didn't know I was going to be playing 'Catch the 'Con' here!" Sideswipe huffed. Knockout snorted and went back to his work with vigor. For a few moments, they stewed in silence, with only the occasional clicks of metal against metal to interrupt their brooding.

"I was _worried_ , Sides," Knockout finally whispered. There was still bitterness in his tone, but it was softer now; anguished, almost. "You can't begin to understand how worried I was."

Sideswipe fixed his gaze on a stain on the berth and remained silent. Truth be told, he hadn't considered how Knockout might react to his leaving. When he'd stepped through that space bridge onto Earth, the only thing on his mind had been freedom. Cybertron and all its rules were light-years away, and he had a whole planet to himself to do whatever his spark desired.

It hadn't occurred to him that Knockout might get concerned…

Sideswipe flinched as he suddenly felt a hand on the back of his helm.

"Calm down; I'm just turning your pain receptors back on." Sideswipe kept still as Knockout fiddled with the connections in his helm. He heard a click, followed by a tingling sensation as the feeling returned to his body. Knockout took his arm again and started putting its armor back in place. "How do you feel?"

Sideswipe flexed his fingers experimentally. They responded without hesitation, much to his relief. There was a dull ache throughout the limb, but nothing like the intense pain he'd felt before. "It feels okay," he admitted, appreciating the medic's work despite himself.

"Good. Go easy on it for the next day or so and let me know if it starts acting up again." With that, Knockout turned his back on Sideswipe and began cleaning his tools. "Your other damage is negligible; you'll be sore for a while, but your self-repair systems should take care of it in a few decacycles. I can buff out the scratches for you, if you'd like."

"I'm good," Sideswipe mumbled, examining his repaired arm. Apart from the aching, it looked and felt as good as new; the only mark was the warped patch where Knockout had welded over the hole the stinger had left. Sideswipe glanced at the medic, but Knockout seemed to have forgotten him now that his injuries had been treated. Or, more likely, was ignoring him.

Sideswipe hopped off the berth but hesitated to leave. A voice in the back of his processor whispered that this was a chance to make things right. If he'd just suck it up and admit he'd been out of line that night, that he hadn't meant what he said… Sideswipe struggled with the voice as he turned to go.

"Oh—here, I forgot this."

Sideswipe turned just in time to see a small object flying at him. He caught it reflexively before it hit his chestplates.

"You still like those, right?" Knockout said in response to his questioning look. Sideswipe looked at the object the medic had thrown. It was a small cube wrapped in silver foil, a soft blue glow barely visible through the wrapper. An energon sweet—like he'd always gotten after check-ups when he was little.

Sideswipe's expression hardened. His fist clenched around the cube, threatening to crush it. "I'm not a sparkling anymore," he spat, glaring at the medic.

"If you don't want it, don't eat it." Knockout went back to cleaning his tools. Any guilt Sideswipe felt was drowned by the rush of anger. He stomped out of the med-bay without another word.

"Who does that glitch think he is?" the youngling muttered under his breath. He started toward the front of the _Alchemor_ , but decided he didn't feel like facing the rest of the team right now. Instead, he turned and walked deeper into the junkyard, losing himself among the heaps of antique rubbish.

"I was doing fine on my own. I don't need him looking after me—" Sideswipe winced as a twinge of pain shot up his arm, as if to remind him that he did, in fact, need looking after. He moved to rub the sore spot, only to remember that he was still holding the energon sweet. He looked once more at the tiny cube, its silver covering glistening in the sunlight. Pink glyphs on the wrapper identified it as chromium-flavored—those had always been his favorite.

Sideswipe scowled at the sweet. With an exasperated huff, he tore the foil off and shoved it in his mouth.

" _Not_ a sparkling," he muttered, and ground the sweet between his teeth.


	6. Left Behind

" _You're making me stay here?!_ " Sideswipe cried, balling his fists up as if he was prepared to fight over the order. Bumblebee resisted the urge to sigh.

"You're still injured, Sideswipe. You're not fit for combat right now."

"Fit, schmit! I'm perfectly fine! See?" Sideswipe waved his repaired arm up and down as if the demonstration would change his leader's mind. "You can't leave me behind, Bee! How are you going to take down the 'Con without my moves?"

"Listen to the grown mechs, junior. They have more experience than you do." Knockout drawled, lazily examining his fingertips as if he couldn't care less about the proceedings. Sideswipe shot him a glare that would've peeled paint.

"But you're taking him along?" The youngling jerked his head toward the medic. "I'm not fit for combat, but the geezer is?"

"That's out of line—"

"It's all right, Bumblebee." Knockout interrupted. "The sparkling's just venting. Missing his stasis nap probably made him grumpy."

Sideswipe's optics widened with rage and he actually took a step toward the medic before Bumblebee put himself between them. "All right, that's enough out of both of you! We have a mission, we can't waste our energy fighting each other."

Bee gave Sideswipe his best authoritative look. "I understand your frustration—really, I do. But Knockout's the expert and if he says you need to rest, then you need to rest. This is not a debate," he said warningly as the youngling opened his mouth to protest again. "This is an order. You're staying here."

Sideswipe scowled, but he didn't argue further. With that, Bumblebee faced the rest of his team. "Right, then; is everyone clear on their jobs?"

"Patrol Crown City, watch for the Decepticon, protect civilians, SIR!" Strongarm rattled off, saluting sharply.

"What she said," Knockout replied, not looking up from his fingernail examination. He ignored the disgusted look Strongarm gave him for his lack of respect.

"I'll keep an eye on the Decepticon's signal and let you know when and where he touches down," Fix-it said. As an afterthought, he copied Strongarm's salute. "Uh, sir."

"I'll help you navigate and identify likely targets," Denny replied, holding up several folded maps.

"And I'll stay here and help Fix-it," Russell added. His shoulders slumped slightly at the thought of staying behind, but he held back the complaints.

Grimlock looked around at his teammates, all taking their duties so seriously. Then he looked at Bee and grinned, smacking his fist into his palm. " _I_ get to punch stuff."

Bumblebee nodded. That was good enough. He looked at Sideswipe, who was still glaring at the ground. "Sideswipe, you'll help Fix-it. Do whatever he says."

"Whatever." Sideswipe muttered. He turned and marched out of the clearing into the depths of the junkyard. Bumblebee started to call him back, but stopped before the reprimand left his vocalizer.

 _He wouldn't listen anyway; might as well let him sulk and get it out of his system,_ Bee thought. Putting the Sideswipe problem aside for later, Bumblebee faced Strongarm and Knockout for a final pep talk. "All right, team: I don't need to remind you how dangerous this fugitive is. If we're going to take Iron Wing down, it's going to be as a team. If he comes to Crown City, we'll regroup before engaging him. If you spot him, alert the rest of the team. We'll need to try to lure him away from the populated areas before starting a fight. The last thing we want is human causalities." He looked at Knockout specifically as he said that. "Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir!" Strongarm replied proudly. Knockout rolled his optics.

"Don't worry, _Herr Kommandant_ , the fleshies will be safe."

"Then let's go." Bumblebee pumped his fist in the air, deepening his voice dramatically. "Autobots—time to fly high!"

Dead silence greeted the display.

"' _Fly high'?!_ " Knockout asked incredulously. " _That's_ your catchphrase?"

"I'm still working on it," Bumblebee sighed. He quickly transformed and popped his door open for Denny to climb in. "Let's just go."

"I mean, none of you even fly! Whatever happened to 'Transform and roll out'?" Knockout went on as he and Strongarm transformed and followed Bumblebee out of the yard. The roar of high-powered engines faded into the distance as the bots raced away. The remaining team members gazed soberly at the junkyard entrance, silently wishing their friends the best of luck.

"...Right." Fix-it cleared his throat, trying to sound official. "Back to work then. Let's see; where's Iron Wing's signal now…?"

"Somewhere far away, if he knows what's good for him," Grimlock bounced on his heels, giving the air a few anticipatory punches. "That overgrown turkey's goin' down this time for sure!"

Russell remained silent. He was still watching the spot where Sideswipe had disappeared.

"I'll be right back, Fix-it. Call me if you need anything." The minicon nodded in acknowledgment, not looking away from the computer's display. Russell vaulted over the _Alchemor'_ s safety railing and jogged away. It was easy to tell which direction Sideswipe had gone: anywhere they went, the bots left giant footprints in the soft dirt of the yard. Russell followed the most recent trail of prints until he found the missing mech among the stasis pods. Sideswipe was taking his anger out on one of the damaged canisters by using it as a punching bag.

"Pompous—self-centered—spawn of a scraplet!" Sideswipe growled between blows. He slammed his right fist into the pod and winced suddenly, clutching his arm. Judging from the fact that he was holding his forearm, not his hand, Russell guessed that the pain was more due to the Predacon sting than the punch.

"Your arm's still bothering you?" Russell asked softly. Sideswipe spun around. His angry expression melted somewhat as he saw his human friend.

"It's fine," The youngling muttered, dropping his arm. "It's just sore. I could still fight if I needed to."

"Bumblebee just wants to make sure you're okay," Russell said, walking closer to his friend. "From what the prison roster said, this Iron Wing guy is tough. You'll notice that _I_ didn't get to go, either."

Sideswipe _hmm_ -ed, examining a piece of junk on the ground as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. Russell watched his expression carefully.

"What's wrong, Sideswipe? Is this just about having to stay behind, or is it something else?"

Sideswipe stiffened, as if Russell had read his thoughts when he didn't want them read. Then he sighed, shoulders slumping. He glanced at Russell with an unusually somber expression on his face. "Can…Can I tell you a secret?"

Russell plopped down on the ground and propped his chin in his hands, the picture of an attentive listener. Sideswipe followed his lead and sat down as well. He traced patterns in the dirt absentmindedly with one finger, as if putting off an unpleasant task.

"The truth is… I was lying about not knowing Knockout."

Russell had guessed this already, but he kept his mouth shut and let Sideswipe continue.

"You know how humans have 'parents,' who raise you and provide for you?" Sideswipe waited for Russell's confirming nod, then explained further. "Well, on Cybertron, we have something similar. We call them 'guardians.' They're not biologically related like human parents, but they basically do the same things."

Sideswipe paused, as if he was about the say something painful. "Knockout… is my guardian."

Russell's eyes widened. _That_ was unexpected. "Are you saying Knockout's your _dad_?!"

"Shhh! Not so loud!" Sideswipe glanced around anxiously. "I don't want the whole team to know!"

Russell digested this information.

"And… I'm guessing you two don't get along too well." The boy finally said.

"You could say that." Sideswipe drew his knees up to his chestplates. "It's been kind of… rough for the past few stellar cycles. We've had a lot of disagreements. And then the night before I came to Earth, we got into a fight."

"About what?"

Sideswipe's face darkened. All of a sudden he leapt to his feet and began pacing manically. "He totally overreacted! All I did was go to a party; it's a perfectly normal thing for younglings to do. So what if I didn't tell him where I was going? I'm nearly an adult, he doesn't need to know where I am every second of the day! And yeah, there was high-grade but I wasn't having any, there was no reason for him to freak out the way he did—"

"Whoa whoa, slow down." Russell interrupted, trying to sort through the information he'd just spewed. "So—you went to a party without telling Knockout. And he found out?"

"He gate-crashed it! I'm just sitting there trying to enjoy myself and suddenly _he_ shows up—I don't even know how he knew where I was!—and practically drags me out, chewing me out the whole time. In front of _everybody_!" Sideswipe spun around and gave Russell a devastated look. "Do you know how humiliating it is for your guardian to treat you like a sparkling in front of all your friends?!"

"That does sound pretty bad," Russell sympathized.

"Tell me about it." Sideswipe resumed his pacing. "And then all the way home he lectures me about spending time with bad influences—like he's one to talk! All he does lately is tell me how I'm going to end up in the stockade if I don't straighten up. I just—I couldn't take it anymore! I told him where he could stick his lectures and—that's kind of the last thing we said to each other."

Something occurred to Russell. "So, wait, did he know you came to Earth?"

Sideswipe's pacing faltered. "…No, he didn't. I didn't think he'd care."

" _What_?" Russell couldn't contain his disbelief. "He's your dad, how could he not care?! My dad would go ballistic if I disappeared to another planet—"

"HE'S NOT LIKE YOUR DAD, RUSSELL!"

The shout took Russell by surprise. It surprised Sideswipe, too—he hadn't meant to explode like that. The youngling vented, rubbing his forehead as if fighting off a headache.

"Knockout isn't like your dad," Sideswipe repeated softly. "Your dad—it's like his whole world revolves around you. He sees you and he just _lights_ up, like you've made his day just by existing."

Sideswipe sank to the ground again, like the emotional purging had exhausted him. He wore an expression Russell had never seen before: melancholy mixed with bitterness, and longing. "Knockout was always kind of distant—too 'cool' to show his feelings, y'know? I don't think I've ever heard him say that he cared about me. Not once."

Russell approached the giant robot and hugged his arm comfortingly. He was hesitant to say anything-he could feel his friend's pain, and he didn't want to minimize it—but he felt like Sideswipe needed to hear something.

"You know, Sideswipe," he whispered, "Not everyone says 'I love you' with words."

Sideswipe looked down at his human friend, confusion joining the medley of emotions in his face. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, my dad's really open about his emotions." Russell winced slightly as he remembered some of his father's more embarrassing outbursts. "A little _too_ open, sometimes. But most people don't wear their emotions on their sleeves like that. They show they care in less-obvious ways—like fixing your favorite meals, or tucking you into bed at night, or—" Russell fixed Sideswipe with a meaningful look. "—by traveling halfway across the galaxy to an alien planet to make sure you're okay."

Sideswipe scowled. "If he cares so much, why's he ignoring me? He's barely talked to me since he got here."

Russell thought for a moment. "Maybe he thinks you don't want him to talk to you," he finally said. Sideswipe's frown didn't go away, but his brow furrowed as if he was considering the possibility. Seeing this, Russell changed the subject. "I understand how you feel, though. Parents can be frustrating—and they have a hard time letting go."

Sideswipe nodded, though the distant look in his optics suggested he wasn't really paying attention. He put a hand around Russell in an approximation of a hug. "Thanks for listening, buddy."

Russell smiled and hugged his friend's arm tighter. "Anytime." After a few moments, he moved to pull away, but Sideswipe stopped him.

"Do—do you think we could keep this little chat on the down-low? I don't really want the rest of the team knowing about Knockout."

"It's our secret." Russell promised, crossing his heart for emphasis. "We should probably get back to the _Alchemor_ ; I told Fix-it I wouldn't be gone long."

"I'll be right there. You go ahead."

Russell nodded in acknowledgment. He had some misgivings about leaving Sideswipe alone, but if the mech wanted some time by himself, Russell had to respect that. He walked back the way he'd come, but as he left he couldn't resist one last glance behind him. Sideswipe hadn't moved from his spot on the ground. He'd pulled his legs back up against his chest, like a small child trying to comfort itself.

It was easy to forget how young Sideswipe was. His battle skills, his confidence—and the fact that he was twenty-foot-tall robot—made him seem older than he actually was. But right now, Russell could see that beneath the bravado, Sideswipe was as much a kid as he was.


	7. Red Herring

**...I don't even have any excuses this time. Sorry. Deadline for the next chapter is September 29th.**  
 **Big thanks to GoldenEagle and the other beta-readers. :D**

* * *

Bumblebee cruised down Crown City's main street, his sensors straining for any sign of Decepticons. So far, he hadn't detected so much as a blip. He supposed that was a good thing, but it was driving his paranoia through the roof. He activated his com-link in an attempt to satisfy his anxiety.

"Team, report: have you seen anything suspicious?"

"Not since you asked five minutes ago!" Knockout snapped, not attempting to hide his exasperation.

"Negative, sir. All I've detected is one bad attitude," Strongarm said pointedly. Bumblebee shut off the link before Knockout could respond to the jab; he really didn't want to listen to his teammates squabble.

"Nice to see those two are getting along," Denny commented from the driver's seat.

"Tell me about it," Bumblebee muttered. "I don't suppose you've seen anything suspicious so far?"

"Well, I think there was a guy hocking watches a few blocks back, but no, nothing Decepticon related." Deny leaned back in the seat, resting his feet on the dashboard. "Calm down, Bee; you're going to fry a circuit or something."

"I don't like inactivity," Bumblebee complained as he began another circuit of the block. "I was sparked during a war; there was no such thing as downtime. If the enemy was quiet, it was because they were plotting something. All this waiting makes me…antsy."

Denny patted Bee's door sympathetically. "Maybe while we're waiting, you could elaborate on this war you keep mentioning. I've gathered bits and pieces, but—"

Bumblebee understood the request. A lesson on Cybertronian history would be a good way to distract himself. "The war—what we call the Great War—was a fight between two factions: the Autobots and the Decepticons. The Autobots, led by Optimus Prime, wanted freedom to make their own choices. The Decepticons—led by a gladiator named Megatron—wanted control. Their motto was 'Peace through Tyranny.' And they would go to any lengths to achieve it."

Bumblebee shuddered inwardly. He remembered all too well the atrocities Megatron had committed in the name of his cause. "The war lasted for millennia… decimated our home planet. We finally managed to end it about 50 of your years ago, thanks to some help from the humans and a whole lot of luck."

"Wow," Denny breathed. He was silent as he digested the information. "And you and Knockout fought together?"

Bumblebee chuckled humorlessly. "Not quite. Knockout switched sides after the Autobots won. For most of the time I knew him, he was chief medic to the Decepticons."

Denny's eyebrows jumped up. "You're kidding me."

"Nope. That's why he has red optics instead of blue—that was one of the marks of a Decepticon during the war." Bee mused over the memory of Knockout's defection. "He's changed since then. The Knockout I knew would never lift a finger to help someone else, especially if it risked getting his paint job scratched. He's mellowed out now, it looks like."

"If this is him mellow, he must've been a real piece of work before." Denny said incredulously. "He's like an even sassier version of Sideswipe."

"Heh, there's a definite resemblance there—" Bumblebee froze suddenly as something clicked. He slammed on his brakes reflexively. Denny grunted as he jerked forward in the seat.

"Uh, Bee? Stopping in the middle of the street without warning isn't usually a good idea," Denny said. But Bumblebee wasn't listening. He'd just remembered something Knockout had said when he'd first arrived.

 _"Is that youngling you dragged here still functional?"_

Bee hadn't paid much attention to it then, but in hindsight, it was odd that that would be the first thing Knockout asked about. If he'd come to help Bumblebee, why would he care about the other bots who'd come to earth? And there were two younglings here—Strongarm and Sideswipe—yet Knockout had said "youngling," singular, as if he was only concerned about one of them. Then there'd been Sideswipe's strange behavior since the medic's arrival…and Knockout's anger over the youngling getting damaged...

Denny thumped Bee's dashboard suddenly, drawing his attention to the chorus of honking from irritated drivers stuck behind him. He hastily started moving again, but his processor was only half on driving. Did Knockout know Sideswipe somehow? And if so, how were they connected? Sideswipe had hardly seemed happy to see him.

Acting on a hunch, Bee pulled up his arrest and citation logs from Cybertron. The simplest way to resolve this would've been to just _ask_ Knockout about it, but that wouldn't help much if the medic was keeping secrets. Thankfully, there was another way to investigate. Scrolling through his records, Bee quickly found Sideswipe's citations—the youngling had had enough run-ins with the police to merit his own section. But the only information in it was the long list of minor offenses the youngling had committed. Bumblebee silently grumbled at himself. Officers were supposed to keep repeat offenders' full files on hand attached to their criminal records, but Sideswipe's crimes had been so petty, Bee had never bothered. There was a bitter irony in it.

The thought of protocol gave him an idea, though. Bumblebee opened up a private com-channel to Strongarm. "Cadet, when we arrested Sideswipe on Cybertron, did you happen to access his personal file before we went through the spacebridge?"

Strongarm took a moment to answer—the request was a surprising one. "I did. It's standard procedure, makes the processing go faster."

"Could you send it to me, please? I'd like to check something."

The response baffled Strongarm further, but she didn't question her lieutenant. "Of course, sir. Sending it now."

Denny gave Bee an odd look as the mech shut off the com line. "What was that about?"

"Just a hunch." Bee said distractedly. A _ping_ sounded from his personal computer, signaling the arrival of the requested file. He pulled it up on his internal display. This file contained everything the Kaon City police force knew about Sideswipe. If he did have some connection to Knockout, it might be listed here.

Unfortunately, the universe decided that now was not the time for him to look into Sideswipe's background. Bee's com-unit crackled to life just then and Fix-it's shrill voice announced a new priority.

"Fix-it to away team, the Predacon is descending! I repeat, the Predacon is rescind—defend—"

"We get it, Fix-it." Bumblebee interrupted the minicon's stuttering. "What's his location?"

"Um, 20 miles east of the spot where you found his stasis pod, on the same mountain range."

"Really?" The 'Con hadn't traveled far, considering that he'd been airborne for several hours. If he was still in the mountains, it would take too long to get to him on foot. "All right, prepare the ground bridge, Fix-it. Knockout, Strongarm, let's regroup by the bridge into the city. We can find a sheltered area there where the humans won't notice a wormhole popping up. Once we're through, open another bridge for Grimlock to meet us."

"Aw, yeah!" The Dinobot's cheer could be heard over Fix-it's end of the line.

"I'll get the bridge ready now, sir!" the minicon added before ending the transmission.

"Bumblebee," Knockout piped up suddenly. "I've been thinking—"

"There's a surprise," Strongarm muttered over the link.

"—And I'm not sure brute force is the best way to take down this Predacon," Knockout continued, ignoring Strongarm. "I have something at the junkyard that might help. Permission to retrieve it?"

Bee waited for Knockout to elaborate on his idea, but the medic had clearly said all he was going to. The vagueness of his request made Bee suspicious—but he supposed anything that gave them an advantage over Iron Wing was worth trying. "Permission granted. But hurry." He paused before adding "And Knockout—nothing lethal."

"If you insist." The squeal of tires came through the com-link briefly as Knockout accelerated away.

"What should I do?" Denny asked.

"I'm afraid you'll have to get another ride back to the junkyard," Bumblebee said apologetically. "Maybe Sideswipe can pick you up—I'm sure he'd jump at the chance to have something to do."

As the bridge came into sight, Bumblebee pulled off into an alley and opened his door. Denny climbed out and gave the hood a reassuring thump. "Good luck, Bumblebee."

"Thanks." Bee shut his door and pulled back out onto the street. Good luck—such an odd phrase when you thought about it. It wasn't as if saying it would make the universe shift circumstances in your favor and yet, that seemed to be the implied purpose of saying. A prayer to the cosmos for help. Bumblebee wasn't a superstitious mech, but he hoped the universe had been listening to Denny's farewell comment. They could use all the luck they could get.

Bumblebee met Strongarm underneath the bridge into the city. The sound of steady traffic rumbled overhead, but beneath it they should be safe from prying eyes. Bee opened a com-channel to the _Alchemor_. "All right, Fix-it, we're in place. Open the ground bridge."

"Yes, sir!" The minicon chirped. "I'm going to set you down a little ways away from the signal so you can regroup with Grimlock before you confront Iron Wing."

"Roger that."

"Who's Roger?"

"No, it's a human expression—never mind. Just open the bridge." Bee sighed. Once they'd taken care of Iron Wing, he needed to remind Knockout to look at Fix-it's damaged circuitry.

The air in front of the robots wavered, and a ground bridge portal blossomed in a swirl of green light. Bumblebee noticed out of the corner of his optic that Strongarm was twitching her tires restlessly.

"You ready for this, cadet?"

"Yes, sir! Of course, sir!" She said without hesitation. Bumblebee could tell that she sounded more confident than she actually felt, but he didn't call her out on it. What mattered was that she was willing to try. Without further ado, Bumblebee gunned his engine and raced through the ground bridge.

They emerged from the other side of the portal into a forest of tall coniferous trees. Bumblebee transformed into robot mode, landing on his feet with a soft _thump_. Strongarm followed suit, though less gracefully. Bumblebee held a finger to his lips as a signal to stay quiet—this would be much easier if they could take Iron Wing by surprise. Strongarm nodded and they both drew their weapons. Bee pressed two fingers to his com-link.

"We're here, Fix-it." Bee whispered, "I'm going to keep the com channel open so you can guide us to the fugitive. Send Grimlock through."

"I will tell Roger that, sir." Fix-it replied soberly. Bumblebee didn't bother to correct him. A moment later, another ground bridge opened besides them.

"And Fix-it, tell Grimlock to be—" Bumblebee winced as the Dinobot charged through the portal, making the ground quake beneath him. "—quiet."

"Where is he? I'm gonna punch that loser so hard—" Grimlock's tirade cut off as Bumblebee clamped his muzzle shut. The yellow mech sighed inwardly; so much for surprise.

"Let's go—and hurry." He hissed. "Fix-it, where's the Predacon?"

"Due north about 500 yards, sir." The minicon replied. Bumblebee set off in the indicated direction and gestured for the others to follow.

The forest was eerily quiet around them. Bumblebee's instincts whispered that something wasn't right. Iron Wing had to have heard Grimlock's little outburst; why hadn't he attacked yet, or tried to fly away?

"Fix-it, are you sure this is the right location?"

"Positive, sir." The minicon seemed miffed at his superior's skepticism. "I've double-checked all the sensors. He hasn't moved since he landed."

Bumblebee's instincts whispered a little louder at that. He quickened his pace, fighting a growing sense of dread. They'd gone nearly 500 yards now and the woods ahead of them were noticeably Decepticon-free. These trees were big, but hardly big enough to hide a 30-foot Predacon.

"These woods don't look disturbed at all," Strongarm murmured, echoing Bumblebee's thought. "Wouldn't a massive Decepticon leave some kind of mark when he touched ground?"

"Fix-it, there's nobody here!" Bumblebee snapped into his comm-link.

"That—that can't be right…" Doubt crept into the minicon's voice. "According to the scanners, you should be right on top of him."

Grim-faced, Bumblebee spun to face his teammates. "Spread out. Stay within shouting distance, but look for any sign that Iron Wing was here."

His two allies nodded and split off. Bumblebee went in his own direction. Habits from his days as a scout kicked in. He scanned his surroundings footprints. Broken branches, anything to suggest that the 'Con had made an appearance. A metallic glint in the branches above him caught his attention.

Cautiously, Bumblebee walked closer to the tree. There was definitely something stuck in the pine's higher branches. Bee grasped the tree's trunk and shook it as hard as he could without uprooting it. The object shivered and tumbled down through the pine boughs until it hit the ground at the tree's base. Bumblebee crouched to examine it. His optics widened.

"Strongarm! Grimlock!"

Feet pounded and tree branches snapped as the two Autobots came racing to their leader.

"What is it, sir? What did you find?" Strongarm demanded. Bumblebee didn't answer. He snatched the piece of metal off the ground, a closer look confirming what it was: a chunk of Cybertronian armor the color of umber, with a silver Decepticon brand in the middle. The piece had obviously been ripped off of someone's plating, but whoever had done it had been careful to leave the brand untouched—and its locator chip functioning.

"Scrap," Bumblebee muttered. "This was a decoy! We've been tricked!"


	8. Distraction

**Hey look, it's a new chapter! That's definitely not late at all! Yaaaay! :D  
Hope it was worth the wait. Big thanks to GoldenEagle for editing.**

* * *

Grimlock waited impatiently for Fix-it to set the ground bridge coordinates. The Dinobot was anxious for a fight—even more so than usual.

"Good luck, Grimlock!" Russell called from beside Fix-it. Sideswipe said nothing. He'd come out of hiding a while ago, but he hadn't stopped sulking. He was currently pacing around like a nervous watchdog. Russell could swear there was a trench forming under his pedes.

The ground bridge whined and filled with green light as the portal opened. "All right, Grimlock, you're clear to—" The Dinobot's tail had vanished through the wormhole before Fix-it could finish the sentence. The minicon trailed off, looking slightly deflated. Russell patted him on the shoulder sympathetically.

"Are we just going to stand around here they do all the work?" Sideswipe demanded, halting his pacing.

"No; _I'm_ going to be monitoring the team and giving technical support," Fix-it said primly. "If _you_ want to be useful, I believe Denny Clay needs a ride back from the city."

Sideswipe muttered a complaint, but he transformed anyway. "You coming, Russell?"

"Sure!" Russell hurried down the ramp to the car. Sideswipe took off as soon as the boy was buckled in. The G-forces pinned Russell to the seat as the Lamborghini raced out of the gate and down the road.

"Um, Sideswipe? Don't forget about the speed limit." Russell reminded him, fingers instinctively digging into the seat cushion. Sideswipe sighed, but he slowed enough that Russell no longer feared for their safety.

"The best fighter on this team and I'm demoted to taxi service," the mech grumbled. "Nothing against your dad, Russell, but this is _not_ what I wanted to be doing right now."

"There'll be other 'Cons to fight," Russell assured him. But that didn't matter to Sideswipe—what mattered was that he'd been left out of _this_ fight. What right did Bumblebee have to exclude him? This wasn't Cybertron and he wasn't one of Bee's subordinates—he didn't have to listen to anyone here. Of course, Bee might not have grounded him if it wasn't for _Knockout_ …

Sideswipe stewed silently as he drove. They rounded a corner and the trees vanished, revealing the glittering Crown City coastline. Sideswipe usually loved the sight, but today it was galling. The gaudy flashiness of the humans' architecture, the irritating glint of the sun off the water, the flying gulls mocking him with their freedom—

Wait…

"Russell, how big do birds get on earth?"

Russell was surprised, both by the question and the sudden anxiety in his friend's voice. "Um… it depends on the species of bird," he floundered. "I think the biggest kind is ostriches—they're, like, nine feet tall."

"Know of any that are Predacon size?" Sideswipe asked quietly.

Russell's eyes widened. He lunged for the window, leaning out for a better look at the surroundings.

"See that black speck up in the sky, the one that's scattering the birds? Either my optics are playing tricks on me, or it's waaay too big to be a seagull."

Russell scrabbled for the binoculars around his neck. As he focused them on the indicated area, the speck resolved into a clearer image. It was impossible to mistake the distant silhouette, especially with the sun shining off the metal plating.

"It's Iron Wing!" Russell gasped. "But he's supposed to be in the mountains! There's no way he could have traveled this far so fast!"

Sideswipe activated his comm-link to the Alchemor. "Fix-it! We've got a situation!"

"Not now, Sideswipe, I'm dealing with something!" The minicon sounded frantic. "The signal was a decoy and now we have no way of locating Iron Wing—"

"We've located him already!" Sideswipe interrupted. "He's right in front of us, headed for Crown City!"

There was dead silence on the other end. "I'm patching you into the group line." Fix-it replied.

Sideswipe screeched to a stop, waiting impatiently. It was an interminable moment before Bee's voice came over the link. "Sideswipe, confirm: you have a visual on Iron Wing?"

"Yes! He's about a mile away, making a beeline for the city!"

"Scrap." Bumblebee cursed. "Call Knockout and then wait for us. Fix-it, open a ground bridge to Sideswipe's location!"

"Working on it now, sir! It'll just be sec—" Fix-it cut off suddenly. Then, in a hushed voice: "Oh, no…"

"What?! What happened?"

"No, please no, no—the ground bridge isn't responding!" The minicon's shrill cry sent a wave of dread through Sideswipe and his passenger.

"Wha—we don't have time for this, Fix-it!" Their fearless leader sounded on the verge of panic. "We need that ground bridge, _now_!"

"I know, I know! I'm trying—no, no, no!"

Sideswipe listened to the tumult grimly, optics locked on the rapidly-approaching Predacon. In another minute, he'd be over the city. A confrontation would mean witnesses at best and casualties at worst. They couldn't afford to wait for the ground bridge to get fixed. Someone—

Someone had to stall him.

Sideswipe swung his passenger door open, causing Russell—who was still leaning out the window—to tumble out. "Russell, get back to the junkyard and tell the others where I went. I'm gonna try to slow him down."

"What, you're going to take on Iron Wing alone?!" Russell cried as he disentangled himself from the window. "That's crazy! Bumblebee said to wait!"

"There's no _time_!" Sideswipe slammed his door shut for emphasis. "There are innocent people in that city, including your dad. We can't risk that 'Con getting anywhere near them!"

With that, Sideswipe took off, enveloping Russell in a cloud of dust.

"What about Knockout?!" Russell shouted after him, but the Lamborghini was already too far to hear. A wave of despair washed over Russell as he watched his friend disappear into the distance. Sideswipe was going to get himself killed. He might delay Iron Wing long enough for the others to get here, but it would be a miracle if he came out of it in one piece.

Russell whipped his phone out. He hastily scrolled through his contacts to the numbers that linked him to the Autobots' com system. He stopped on the one he'd put in three days ago at Bumblebee's insistence.

Sideswipe might not like his guardian, but Knockout was the only backup available right now—and Sideswipe would need whatever help he could get.

* * *

Sideswipe tore down the road parallel to the coast. Iron Wing was coming in from the north, the opposite direction from the scrapyard; if Sideswipe was fast enough, he'd meet him halfway. Well, "meet" being a relative term since Iron Wing was a thousand feet in the air, but Sideswipe had a plan for that.

When he'd drawn nearly even with the distant Predacon, Sideswipe transformed. He dug his fingers into the ground to slow himself, leaving long furrows in the dirt as he skidded to a halt. He snatched his Decepticon hunter from its holster and imagined the weapon he needed. The device hummed, becoming not his usual katana, but a protoblaster. Raising it to optic level, he aimed it toward the dark shape in the sky. He wasn't used to this weapon—protoblasters were Strongarm's thing—but a sword wasn't going to be much use at the distance.

Sideswipe squinted at his target—and fired.

The blue bolt streaked through the air. It missed the Predacon, passing in front of him instead—but it got his attention. The black shape lurched to a halt in midair. The next bolt passed over his shoulder, confirming where the shots were coming from. Sideswipe cursed silently—he'd hoped to get at least one hit before the 'Con noticed him. But he felt satisfied as the speck wheeled away from the city.

Of course, that satisfaction was short-lived as he realized there was a three-ton, angry Predacon dive-bombing him.

Sideswipe scrambled back as Iron Wing bore down on him. Holstering his weapon, he dropped into vehicle mode and zoomed in reverse down the road. The metal giant swooped by him, close enough for Sideswipe to feel the rush of air from his passing. Iron Wing pulled up sharply to avoid the trees and banked around for another dive.

 _He's too fast in the air_ , Sideswipe thought. _I can't evade him out here. I need closer quarters._ Making a decision, he angled his wheels and careened off the road toward the forest. A blur of claws and orange metal shot through the space he'd just been occupying. Sideswipe came to a stop just inside the tree line as the Predacon bellowed in frustration at missing his prey a second time.

"You couldn't hit the broad side of a spaceship from the inside, Pred-head!" Sideswipe taunted as he transformed. The bestial mech landed on the road in front of him, changing into his bipedal form. To Sideswipe's surprise he didn't charge. For a long moment the two locked gazes, blue optics staring down amber ones. Sideswipe saw flames in that gaze—a conflagration of hate and anger roiling just below the surface, ready to burst forth. But what chilled him was the condescension in it. Sideswipe was used to being looked down on, even being hated-but Iron Wing looked at him in the way a lion would look at a crippled gazelle. He didn't even consider Sideswipe an enemy—just a nuisance that had overstepped its place in the food chain. It sent a chill down Sideswipe's spine.

"You just gonna stare at me all day, or what?" Sideswipe demanded, trying to keep his voice steady. The Predacon said nothing; he drew in a deep vent, olfactory sensors flaring.

"I smell your fear, insect," he said in a soft rumble that was somehow more disconcerting than a roar. "We both know there is only one way this can end."

He leaned forward, baring his teeth—more teeth than any creature should ever have. "Your death is inevitable," he hissed.

Sideswipe fought down his urge to scream and instead met the Predacon's gaze. "You'll have to catch me first," he said.

And with that, he turned and ran.

The snap of breaking tree limbs behind him told Sideswipe that Iron Wing was following. He zig-zagged his way through the trees, staying just far enough out of reach to keep the 'Con baited.

A massive branch glanced off a nearby pine. _What is it with this guy and throwing trees?!_ Sideswipe thought. He ducked behind one of the larger trees out of the way of further projectiles. "Branches aren't working, might to try another strategy!" he shouted.

The sounds of smashing foliage stopped suddenly. Sideswipe cocked an eyebrow ridge. What was the convict doing?

Another branch sailed past his tree-shield. Sideswipe smirked and leaned out to deliver another taunt. "A minicon could throw better than—"

He trailed off as an enormous boulder was suddenly launched at his now-exposed head. He dove out of the way, but not fast enough. The boulder smashed through the tree and clipped him on the shoulder, its sheer momentum sending him tumbling to the ground.

"Note to self: don't give your enemies ideas," Sideswipe groaned, clutching his damaged shoulder. The ground trembled beneath him, making him look up. He hastily rolled to the side, letting out an undignified yelp as a Predacon pede smashed down where his head had been a second ago. Sideswipe leapt into a crouch, only to flatten against the ground as the mech's scorpion-like tail whipped over his head.

 _This isn't working!_ He thought frantically. He leapt away as Iron Wing spun around, narrowly avoiding a swipe from the Predacon's claws. He yanked his Decepticon hunter out as he scuttled backwards, mentally ordering it to change into a sword. His best chance, he decided, was to stay on the defensive. The Decepticon was becoming noticeably more frustrated as Sideswipe repeatedly danced out of reach.

"Hold STILL!"

"Like scrap I will!" Sideswipe shot back. A claw nicked his armor as he tried to duck under it. He winced and scrambled farther back. _What's taking Bee so long?! How long does it take to fix a space bridge?!_

The Predacon seemed urged on by the minor blow. He attacked even more ferociously than before, and Sideswipe took a hit on the leg as he leapt to the side. The wounds seared painfully, more painfully than they should have. _Don't tell me his claws are venomous, too?_ Sideswipe wondered exasperatedly. Iron Wing was already bigger and stronger than he was; did he really need to have toxins as well?

Using a tree to kick off of, Sideswipe vaulted over the Predacon, evading a punch that turned the tree behind him into splinters. He kicked the convict in the helm as he somersaulted over it, causing his opponent to stagger slightly.

 _Yes!_ Sideswipe though in triumph. As Iron Wing shook off the blow, he left himself open on his right flank. Sideswipe hit the ground and lunged forward to exploit the opening. But his injured leg wobbled beneath him. The sword fell short of its mark as Sideswipe stumbled. He caught himself before he hit the ground, but the moment of weakness was all Iron Wing needed.

 _WHAM!_

Stars danced before Sideswipe's eyes as Iron Wing's tail pile-drove him into the ground. He shook his helm, but a foot came down on him, causing the stars to pop up again. The Predacon stomped on Sideswipe's chestplates over and over, creating a crater beneath him. Slam. Slam. Slam.

Sideswipe lunged blindly with his sword, but it was knocked from his grip. A kick to the abdomen sent him tumbling across the ground. The stars cleared from his vision enough to see Iron Wing approaching with all the resolve of an executioner.

Sideswipe tried to move but his body just wasn't having it. Iron Wing's foot lashed out again; it caught him in the teeth, knocking him flat on his back.

Sideswipe saw blue sky above him before a foot pushed his face into the dirt. He tasted energon. Error messages were flooding his processor, warning that stasis lock was imminent. He fought it off, trying to wiggle out from beneath the Predacon.

"See?" Iron Wing whispered above him, his voice sounding fuzzy. "Inevitable." The pressure on Sideswipe's helm increased, sending a new wave of alerts through his processor. Sideswipe pushed frantically against the limb pinning him, panic rising. A smile spread across Iron Wing's face as he watched Sideswipe's efforts. The insect's futile struggles were amusing. A little more force, and there was an audible crack as the helm's casing began to give. Sideswipe's vision blurred, his audials filling with white noise.

He didn't want to die; not now, not like this. Not squashed like a bug by an egotistical despot.

The buzzing white noise grew louder, roaring in his audials. Louder and louder, like a speeding car bearing down on him…

Iron Wing's audials flicked as a revving sound suddenly filled the forest. His head jerked up, and for a second he saw the scarlet blur streaking down the path he'd torn through the trees.

And then a bright-red Aston Martin slammed into his chest at two hundred miles an hour.

The force threw him off balance. Iron Wing hit the ground with a grunt, stunned. The Aston Martin flipped end over end across the clearing, its parts shifting into arms and legs as it went. Iron Wing snarled as he faced the new arrival. Knockout crouched in a predatory stance, energon staff at the ready. The vehicular tackle had dented his chestplates, but if he noticed he apparently didn't care. Sparks shot from his gaze as he glowered at Iron Wing, red optics ablaze with a fury to match the Predacon's own.

"Stay away from my sparkling," he hissed.


	9. Knocked Out

**Update! And it's only three days late! WHOOOOO! Big thanks to GoldenEagle and Bumblebee-the-Dork for their help with beta-reading.**

 **Small warning: this is a bit more graphic than previous chapters. Like, amputated-limb graphic. Squeamish readers should proceed with caution. Also, this is NOT the last chapter. There will be one more update to wrap everything up. In the meantime, enjoy this installment-please leave a review or a critique when you're done reading, both are very much appreciated.**

* * *

Iron Wing launched himself at the medic like a lion going for the kill. Knockout lunged to the side, causing Iron Wing to plow into the trees behind him. He glanced at Sideswipe. The youngling wasn't moving. Energon trickled from various places on his frame—not enough for the loss to be dangerous, but if there was any internal bleeding—

A Predacon fist flashed by his head, reminding Knockout that he had another problem to take care of first. He growled in frustration. Iron Wing took another swing at him. Knockout spun underneath it, jabbing his opponent in his now-exposed flank with his staff. Iron Wing snarled as the weapon shocked him. He spun around, trying to get his claws into the medic, but Knockout danced out of reach.

"Some Predacon you are!" Knockout jeered. "I've seen scraplets more dangerous."

Iron Wing growled. He snatched up the nearest piece of debris and flung it at his opponent. Knockout batted it aside with his staff. "No wonder Predaking exiled you," he continued, giving his weapon a showy twirl. "I'd be ashamed to call you one of my own, too—"

"PREDAKING IS _WEAK_!" Iron Wing bellowed, taking another swing. "Since his creation, he's done nothing but kowtow to inferior creatures! Even now, he sits idly by and allows bugs like you to rule the planet instead of crushing them into submission as he should!"

"Well, he did crush _you_ into submission—"

Iron Wing's responding blow wrenched the energon staff from Knockout's hands. It spun across the clearing, embedding itself in an uprooted trunk. Knockout cursed, ducking beneath the Predacon's follow-up blow. Iron Wing's foot met him instead, sending him flying a dozen feet. Knockout rolled to minimize the impact, but it still scrambled his circuits. Before he could recover, a clawed hand closed around his throat. He was lifted up to optic level to meet his enemy's gaze, the amber optics smoldering.

"I—AM—ABOVE YOU!" Iron Wing roared in his face. "I AM A _GOD_! YOU AND YOUR KIND ARE _NOTHING_ COMPARED TO ME!

Knockout gritted his teeth. The Predacon's screaming didn't faze him-he'd experienced rants like this plenty of times among Megatron's forces. Behind his back, he reached into his subspace with one hand and pulled out the object he'd fetched from the junkyard: an auto-injecting syringe full of the strongest sedative he had. It was the formula he'd used for treating Insecticons; if it could knock them out, it should take the fight out of this mech. A quick and easy dispatch—then he could see to Sideswipe.

"Do you doubt me, insect?!" Iron Wing snarled, undoubtedly angered by Knockout's lack of reaction to his tirade. Knockout couldn't hold back a smirk.

"News flash," The ex-Decepticon said quietly. "Insects bite." In a swift, practiced motion, he plunged the needle at Iron Wing's exposed elbow joint.

The Predacon caught it.

Knockout's optics widened as the hand clamped around his wrist. His opponent's grip kept the syringe hovering an inch from its target. Iron Wing wrenched his arm. Knockout yelped as he lost his grip on the syringe. It fell to ground, where Knockout stared at it dumbly.

"Pitiful." Iron Wing scoffed. He arched his tail into a striking position. The world seemed to slow down as Knockout watched it lash forward. Reflexes honed by millennia of battle kicked in. His free hand transformed into a buzzsaw and, as the stinger neared his helm, he swung.

Iron Wing's screech nearly blew out his audials. The Predacon dropped him, cradling the bleeding stump that used to be his stinger. Knockout wiped the energon spatter from his face and made a dash for his staff. Out of the corner of his optic, he saw Iron Wing transform into his beast form. "Angry" was not a strong enough word for the enraged Predacon—he was _feral_. Knockout pulled the staff from the log just as Iron Wing pounced. He rolled aside, the Predacon's wing actually brushing him as he shot past. Before the beastformer could turn for another strike, Knockout used his staff to vault over the Predacon's back.

Iron Wing reared as the medic landed between his shoulders. Knockout clung for dear life as his enemy tried to shake him loose. He jabbed the tip of his staff into a gap in Iron Wing's neck plating. The Predacon howled in pain. Then, without warning, he pitched to the side. Knockout realized his intentions almost too late. He jumped off just before Iron Wing rolled over—a move that would have crushed Knockout beneath him had the medic still been on his back. Knockout scrambled to regain his footing as Iron Wing completed the roll. His jump had been clumsy; as fast as he was, he didn't get out of range before the Predacon lunged forward.

Pain flared through Knockout's sensors as massive jaws clamped down on his leg. Iron Wing tossed his head, yanking the medic off his feet. He shook Knockout like a dog shakes a chew toy. The world spun every which way as he whiplashed through the air. After what felt like an eternity—but was probably only a few seconds—Iron Wing flung him across the clearing, where a tree rudely interrupted his flight. Knockout slid limply to the ground. His processor was still reeling; he barely even registered the pain of his mangled leg. The still-functioning part of his mind noted the orange-and-brown death sentence coming to finish the kill. Sheer reflex brought his arms up as the beast came to take a bite out of him.

Knockout caught Iron Wing's jaws before they could close on him, holding the Predacon back by his saber teeth. The stench of stagnant fluids from his maw snapped Knockout back to his senses. His mind raced to come up with a strategy. He could see his staff a few feet away—he'd managed to keep a hold of it while being tossed around like a rag doll, but he must've dropped it when he hit the ground. If he could reach it—scrap, if he could even get one of his buzzsaws out, he might stand a chance. But he couldn't do either, not with his hands occupied like this. His arms trembled from the strain of holding the Predacon at bay. Letting go of the snapping jaws for even an instant meant certain death. And it was only a matter of time before his arms gave out and those blade-like teeth reached their target. Knockout glanced around himself in a desperate attempt to find a solution.

His optics settled on a spot just behind Iron Wing. They widened for an instant before surprise was overcome by practicality.

"Shoulder joint," he grunted. Iron Wing heard him. It was such a random thing to say that for a moment he wondered if he'd damaged his prey's processor. Then he felt something pierce his upper forelimb. The Predacon grunted at the unexpected sting. He swung his lion-esque head around to find a Cybertronian syringe sticking out of his shoulder joint—and, holding it, a battered but very much alive Sideswipe.

Iron Wing could only gape at the youngling. He thought he'd squished this insect; what was it doing still functional? How—

His thoughts were interrupted as a thousand volts of energy shot through him—courtesy of the energon staff Knockout had just jammed into his neck. Iron Wing stumbled back as the electricity coursed through his body. He frantically shook to dislodge the weapon, but the drugs, energon loss, and electric shocks proved too much for his systems. The mighty beastformer crashed to the ground—and stayed there. His optics flickered feebly before he went into stasis.

Sideswipe stared at the fallen Predacon, watching for any more movement. When Iron Wing remained still, the youngling let out a relieved vent and plopped down on the ground. Knockout carefully pushed himself into a sitting position, using the tree behind him for support. Silence fell over the clearing. It felt unnatural after the fervor of battle.

"…Are you all right?" Knockout asked after a few seconds. It took Sideswipe a moment to realize the mech was addressing him. He glanced over his cracked and scuffed-up frame.

"'M okay," He muttered. "Nothing irreparable, anyway. You?"

"I've had worse," Knockout shrugged. He was so nonchalant about it that Sideswipe almost believed him. The silence fell again as they regarded Iron Wing's prostrate form.

A sudden chuckle from the medic had Sideswipe eyeing him questioningly.

"You remember that first time we talked?" Knockout asked, still watching the Predacon. "When you were still in the sparkling center? You'd crawled into an air vent to hide from your medical exam. Remember?"

Sideswipe nodded slowly, suspecting the fight had knocked a few of his guardian's bolts loose.

"You bragged about killing a cyber-roach," Knockout went on. "'I just squished-ed it,' you said. 'Splat!' You were so proud."

Knockout chuckled again. He gestured at the stasis-locked Predacon next to them. "Your quarry's gotten a little bigger since then."

Sideswipe frowned. "That was a long time ago," he mumbled. "I've changed—I've grown up."

"I know."

That wasn't what Sideswipe had expected to hear. He looked at Knockout— _really_ looked at him for once. The medic was staring off into space, an uncharacteristically tender expression on his face.

"You're growing up, Sideswipe; I can't deny that." Knockout said quietly. He raised his helm to meet Sideswipe's gaze. The earnestness in his red optics was clear. "But even if you're not a sparkling—you'll always be _my_ sparkling."

Sideswipe's spark clenched. He opened his mouth to say something, then shut it again. There was nothing to say to that

Wordlessly, Sideswipe scooted over to Knockout's side and leaned against his shoulder. Knockout grew tense at the contact—he'd never been a touchy mech. Hesitantly, he put an arm around the youngling.

And neither of them spoke, because somehow that awkward, one-armed hug said everything that needed to be said.

"Sideswipe! Knockout!" Bumblebee's voice suddenly shouted through the comm-link. In the blink of an eye, the mechs had separated, both trying to pretend the contact had never happened.

Knockout hastily clicked his comm-link on. "We're still online, _Herr Kommandant_. Did you get the space bridge fixed?"

"Fix-it's putting in the coordinates for your location now; we'll be there in a nanoklik."

"You're a little late to the party," Sideswipe said over his own comm. "I hope you have a stasis pod ready for this sucker."

"You've captured him already?" Bumblebee couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice. "Are you damaged?"

"We got a few dents out of it, but yeah, he's down for the count."

"And with minimal collateral damage," Knockout added. "Well, besides a few dozen trees, but they'll grow back eventually."

Bumblebee sighed—out of relief or exasperation, they couldn't tell. "Glad you both survived. And…good job."

The two scarlet mechs ended the link and settled back to wait for their teammates.

"…So," Sideswipe said after a second. "Are you gonna tell him about—y'know, being my guardian?"

Knockout raised an optic ridge at the youngling. Sideswipe continued. "I mean, he'll probably figure it out eventually. And if you're gonna stick around for a while, we might as well get everything out in the open."

"You wouldn't be embarrassed if they knew?" Knockout asked. He seemed surprised—and, to those who knew him well enough, hopeful.

Sideswipe thought for a second, then shook his helm. "Nah."

Knockout's lips curled into a smile—not a smirk, not a grin, but an actual smile.

"We can tell them when we get back—once repairs get taken care of." He agreed. He held out a hand to the younger bot. "Help an old man up?"

Sideswipe smirked as he pulled the other mech to his feet. A ground bridge appeared a few yards away, as Bee had promised. The mission wasn't over yet—there was a prisoner to contain, wounds to tend, and cover stories to concoct. But for the moment, it was just the two of them: the youngling and his guardian, one supporting the other. Nothing else mattered.

"By the way-your paint's scratched."

"Shut up, Sides."


	10. Ultimatum

The Autobots' reactions were photo-worthy. Sideswipe took a mental picture as his teammates gaped at him.

"Knockout's your _guardian_?!" Fix-it screeched, one optic twitching erratically. Apparently, the realization was challenging his damaged processor. Russell patted his back reassuringly to try and keep him from crashing.

"You never told us you had a guardian," Grimlock commented.

"It…never came up," Sideswipe said lamely, rubbing the back of his helm. Even that small movement was painful—Knockout had fixed him up well, but his frame still ached from the abuse it had taken. The welds and patches would be sore for at least a few days. All things considered, though, he supposed he'd gotten off easy; few mechs could survive tangling with a Predacon. Knockout had come out worse-his leg would need extensive repairs before it was fully functional again.

The medic currently sat next to Sideswipe, the aforementioned leg in a splint. He'd insisted on coming clean with the team before taking care of it. He surveyed the gathered bots with the impassive mask that was his usual expression. Sideswipe wasn't surprised—Knockout had always been too "cool" to let his feelings show. Strongarm's feelings, on the other hand, were quite obvious from the way her face was scrunched up.

"Sideswipe was raised by a Decepticon?" she scoffed, not trying to conceal her disgust. "That explains a lot."

Sideswipe scowled at her, but Bumblebee stepped between them before he could retort. "That was out of line, cadet," he said sternly, giving Strongarm a pointed look. "Past alliances don't matter. Knockout's proved that he's as much an Autobot as anyone on this team. We're lucky to have him."

"Glad to be of service, _Herr Kommandant_ ," Knockout said drily. "Primus knows this team needs me..."

"Good to have ya here, doc!" Grimlock said cheerily, slapping Knockout on the back. The friendly gesture nearly toppled the medic over. He righted himself with a wan smile.

"Yes, well… Now that we've gotten that settled—" Knockout pushed himself to his feet, using his deactivated energon staff as a makeshift cane. "If there's nothing else to discuss, I've got a surgery to perform on myself, so if you'll all excuse me—"

"Do you need help?" Sideswipe asked with thinly-veiled concern.

Grimlock gasped and waved his hand in the air. "Ooh, I'll help ya! I like helpin'!"

"Er—I'll be all right, thank you," Knockout assured the eager Dinobot. "If you'll all just avoid injury for a few hours, that will be help enough. And make sure Sideswipe doesn't do anything stupid."

Sideswipe spluttered at the remark. Knockout ignored his indignant reply and hobbled away, leaving the youngling with a group of curious bots converging on him.

"Is there anything else you want to tell us?" Fix-it demanded with a fierce glare—or at least, as fierce a glare as he could manage. "Are you a Seeker in disguise, too? Or secretly one of the Thirteen Primes?"

"Well, actually—" Sideswipe smirked as Fix-it's optics bulged even further out of his head. "I'm just kidding, Fix-it. Chill out."

"So is Knockout the one who taught you how to fight?" Grimlock asked excitedly. "Was he in the Great War? Was he there when Megatron died?"

Bumblebee stood back and listened as questions were asked and answers given. But his mind wasn't on the bots in front of him. After a few minutes, he quietly slipped away and headed for the medical area. Knockout was there, as expected; he sat on a berth with his damaged leg stretched in front of him, poking around his knee joint with a soldering iron. He glanced up as Bumblebee approached.

"If you don't mind, Bumblebee, I'd appreciate some privacy. This is a delicate operation."

"Maybe you should have someone helping you, then," Bumblebee countered. Knockout stared at him for a second before resuming his soldering. After a few seconds, he gestured to a stack of boxes several yards away.

"Get me the forceps out of that top crate, would you? There are rocks stuck in my gears."

Bumblebee obligingly went to the indicated box. The whine of Knockout's soldering iron grated on his audials as he searched the crate. After a little rummaging, Bee found the forceps and handed them over.

Knockout spoke as he took the tool. "You're here to tell me off, aren't you?"

Might as well get straight to the point. Bumblebee leaned against the berth, crossing his arms. "Why didn't you tell me, Knockout?"

"You didn't need to know," Knockout replied simply as he coaxed a piece of debris out of his leg. "My personal life, and connection to Sideswipe, had no bearing on your mission."

Bumblebee glowered at the medic until Knockout met his gaze.

"Look, Knockout—I know we're not close. I know you don't like to open up to other bots-you never have." Bumblebee leaned closer, pinning the medic with his glare. "But you can't close yourself off like that. Not here. A small team works best when its members are up front with each other—hiding things makes it harder to trust and more difficult to communicate effectively. And, despite what you may think, this _does_ affect my leadership. Now that I know you're Sideswipe's guardian, it changes how I can expect you to interact with him and react to certain situations."

Bumblebee rubbed his jaw meaningfully. "I need to know that if I want to avoid getting punched again."

The shadow of a smirk flickered across Knockout's face.

"Fine," he said finally. "I apologize if I made your job more difficult. I'll strive to communicate better in the future."

"I'd appreciate that," Bumblebee said. He gestured at the medic's damaged leg. "Can you take care of this alone, or would it help to have an assistant?"

"I'd prefer to handle it myself."

"I'll leave you to it, then." Bumblebee pushed off the berth and made to leave. He stopped when Knockout called his name.

"Bumblebee—"

Bee turned back to face Knockout, noting the drop in the medic's tone. All traces of jest had vanished from Knockout's face—he was dead serious now.

"As long as we're being honest, I want to make one thing clear. I'll do my best to help your entire team, but Sideswipe is the reason I'm here." The medic frowned. "At this point, I think I'd have to drag him kicking and screaming to get him back to Cybertron, so I'll let him stay—for now."

Knockout met Bumblebee's optics with a stony expression. "However—if you lose control of the situation here… if it's a choice between your mission and his safety… I _will_ choose him, even if I have to throw the rest of you under the bus. Understood?"

Bumblebee held Knockout's gaze as the ultimatum sank in. Then he nodded slowly. "Understood. But I hope it doesn't come to that."

Knockout's stone-hard expression softened somewhat. "So do I. Believe it or not, I do consider you a friend of sorts—at least, one of the few Autobots whose company I can tolerate."

"Gee, thanks," Bumblebee said sarcastically. Then he got stern again. "But seriously—I'm going to do everything I can to keep my team and this planet safe. I promise that. Will you trust me to lead?"

"If I didn't, I would have taken Sideswipe away as soon as I got here," Knockout responded. He turned his attention back to fixing his leg. "You're my _Kommandant_ —I'll follow your orders."

Bee nodded again in acknowledgement. He left Knockout to his repairs, wandering farther into the junkyard. Though the exchange had cleared some things up, it left him unsettled. He knew where Knockout stood now, and it was an understandable position—but it worried him.

 _I_ will _choose him, even if I have to throw the rest of you under the bus…_

The words echoed through his mind like a warning bell. Bumblebee silently prayed to Primus that he'd never have to deal with that possibility.

* * *

 **The End!**  
 **This is the first long story I've ever finished, so I'm pretty proud of myself right now. Thank you to my faithful beta-readers for editing my work, and thanks to all of my readers for the reviews, follows and favorites. I feel so loved. :3**  
 **I'd like to do more in this universe-I'm pretty attached to the idea of Knockout as a dad. My next project is extending "Softened Spark" into a series of one-shots, showing Sideswipe's childhood and Knockout's progression as a parent. So look out for that.**  
 **I'd also like to do a sequel for this story, but I want to finish "Softened Spark" first. Feel free to suggest story ideas if you feel so inclined.**

 **This is Sidekicks-Anonymous, signing off. Til all are one!**


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